Seeking Level
by Karin-Sama3
Summary: Everyone saw Lance fall as the cliff side disintegrated under him and Blue, but only Keith jumped after him. Only Keith kept him alive on the canyon floor, and only Keith remembers exactly what happened while they were down there together. And there is something else Keith knows. Something dangerous about the planet, but no one is taking him seriously. *For Audiobook, see profile.
1. Chapter 1

"Take my lion!" Keith yelled as he jerked out of the pilot's seat. Red obediently hovered over the crevasse as Shiro hurried to do as he said, knowing first hand now what would happen if the lion's weight touched the ground. The Black lion grabbed Red as a mother would take her cub by the scruff of the neck. Keith knew Shiro wasn't happy about what he was doing, which is why he hadn't bothered to ask opinions or permission.

"Keith! What are you doing?" Pidge shouted through his helmet radio. But he wasn't thinking about what he was doing. Not really. "It's not safe. Wait!" No way. There was absolutely no time for anything complicated like a plan, like getting supplies, like sparing a thought for self-preservation. Not one tiny second.

He used the thrusters in his suit to soften the momentum of his drop from the lion. Even that slight pressure broke free several mounds of earth, sending mini-avalanches down into the scar that was torn through this planet. And when he touched down, he immediately felt his footing break loose, but he was expecting that. He spread his arms and hit his thrusters, keeping himself surfing on the wake of the rockslide as it tumbled almost one thousand feet down.

"Keith!" His remaining teammates screamed as he disappeared from their sight. He had his teeth clenched in concentration, trying not to be swallowed by the rocks breaking free above him, trying not to fall and bury himself or have anything knock him unconscious, trying to make anything out in the swirling thickness of dust the slide had kicked up. He had to make it all the way down in one piece. He had to get down there and not need help to break free of any rubble. He had to get down there because Lance had fallen first.

"Fine!" He gritted out, leaning backward against the steepness of the fall, wincing as friction and uneven terrain began to wear doubt and fear into his head. Mostly for Lance who had fallen before they'd understood about this area. Lance who had more than just his own wake to contend with as Blue had crumbled into the crevasse too. Why had it held her weight just long enough for Lance to get out? If he'd stayed inside, he would have been fine. But he needed to get that closer look, had to leave the safety of his lion. And when he put his weight, just there, just that spot, the whole cliff face had disintegrated.

In the case of snow, a victim buried in an avalanche has about fifteen minutes of oxygen. Fifteen minutes before their chances of survival drop by a huge irreconcilable percentage. Keith couldn't wait or plan. So he just jumped. Because, as Allura had succinctly put it, the Red Paladin relies mostly on instinct. Let the others, hovering without touching the ground for fear of causing more trouble, let them come up with something for getting them back to the surface. He only had fifteen minutes to find Lance.

He saw Blue first when he finally reached the bottom, which wasn't a surprise, but even she was hard to pick out through the dust haze. She lay on her side, covered in dirt, rocks, and debris. He didn't waste time going to her. She couldn't help him find Lance. She actually didn't look like she was capable of any function. The best she could do was give him a reference point.

"Lance!" He shouted as he skidded to a stop, running closer to Blue as things settled behind him to avoid being knocked out or down by anything he'd knocked loose. "Where are you? Lance!"

"Keith?" Pidge again, amazingly sounding relieved and worried at the same time. "What's down there? What's happening?"

"Don't talk to me," Keith ordered. "Call to Lance." He switched off his helmet radio so he couldn't hear anything but what was right near him and began to scan the disaster at the bottom of the canyon. The dust of his arrival and the direction of the light made it hard to see anything. How long did he have left? Where should he start?

He stood still, removing his helmet completely, grateful for the oxygen that existed on this planet, how closely it resembled the earth he grew up on, reminding himself that patience yielded focus even when his minutes were so precious. He listened, straining to catch any sound, stifling the urge to cough and clear his throat. He needed to hear. He closed his eyes, turning in a circle, then smiled. He could hear them. Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge. Their voices were faint, coming from a helmet speaker, but not his. He'd turned his off. These sounds were from Lance's helmet.

Keith pivoted to the sound, farther away from Blue than he'd imagined. He scanned the rubble and zeroed in on the patch of white standing out dramatically obvious now. It was also obvious that it had fallen off Lance's head. It was half buried. Keith went to it anyway. It seemed to be the best place to start.

"Lance!" He called, over and over, not even registering that he was doing it anymore. Seeing his hands pawing at the dirt, tearing away the rocks, pushing in as deep as possible to see if he could locate a foot, a hand, anything, but seeing them as though they weren't part of him.

He had to move faster.

Lance's helmet still screamed beside him as he ripped through the scree. His teammates grew louder, more desperate as the silence lengthened. His own hands delved more forcefully into the mounds brought down by the fall, cutting the palms, tearing the nails. "Lance!"

"We've got to get down there," the helmet said, the voice distorted enough by electronics and distance that Keith couldn't identify who was talking.

"No," another voice, probably Shiro. "Any more weight on the ground and we could bury them both. No, we need another plan."

The sun, or whatever this planet called its light source, was moving on. Shadows deepened in the canyon, cooling it, making it harder and harder for Keith to spot Lance's uniform. He could barely feel his hands, but he could see they were bloody and slowing. Sweat dripped down his face, but he didn't pause to wipe his brow. He moved, pulled the rubble down, coughed, switched to another spot. How far from his helmet had Lance fallen? Or, a dark voice trembled, how deep?

Wait. The shadows covered Blue. His teammates were quiet. His hands were still as he sat on his heels panting. How much time had gone by? He felt himself shiver; the sweat he'd worked up earlier was working against him now that the dark was coming. It was cold down here. He put on his own helmet, switched the communication back on.

"Guys," his voice cracked horribly, his vocal cords coated in dust.

"Keith!" Pidge yelped, and he could tell that she was sitting cross-legged, whether on the bridge or in her room in the castle, but somehow he knew that she was sitting cross-legged just waiting for him to contact them with an update. Outside of her lion. He shivered again. "I'll get Shiro."

Why? Where was Shiro? Keith's shoulder hit the rock pile as he tumbled over, trying to pull the last of the heat from the ground, drained beyond comprehension.

"Keith, what's going on? We're working out how to get you up out of there."

"The whole planet is like a pastry or something," Hunk's voice. "The top layer is all crumbly. We haven't found a safe place to touch down yet so we can come get you."

"Shiro," Keith's voice was still broken. "Shiro, I can't find him. How long has it been? How many minutes?" The answer was in the pause that followed these questions, but Keith had never been one to pick up on subtext. "Shiro?"

"Keith," Shiro began in a tone that very clearly begged not to have to answer this question in words. But Shiro also knew that Keith would need to hear it, clearly. "It's been almost three hours. You switched off your radio; we couldn't reach you. We've been analyzing the terrain to try and get down there, but apparently the best way is the way you did it. Which, for the record, wasn't the brightest idea you've ever had."

"Maybe not," Keith mumbled, clearing his throat, not thinking, shuddering as the temperature continued to drop. Where was Lance? Several hours. So much longer than fifteen minutes. Chances of survival drop to almost nothing after the first quarter hour. Lance. An ache settled into his chest that would have surprised him another time when he wasn't so tired. It would have taken him ages to figure out why, whether because he'd tried and failed or whether the Blue Paladin actually meant something to him. But right now, it was just there, one more hurt.

"What is that? Keith, what's that noise?" Pidge asked suddenly. He pictured her adjusting levels on her computer and squinting as if that would help her hear better.

"Interference in the connection?" Shiro guessed. Hours. How could it have been hours? He couldn't get past it.

"No, the signal is still strong. Geez, Keith, is that your teeth chattering?"

"Keith!" Shiro barked in his ear when he didn't answer. "What's the temperature down there?"

"I'm reading 13 degrees Celsius on the surface, but down where he is it's probably colder."

"Keith, you with me? Listen. Can you get to Blue? She'll make sure you don't freeze to death while we work this out."

"Lance," Keith began, not moving from where he had curled up in the dirt. His muscles were stiff and resisted even the idea of getting up. But he couldn't take cover yet, not when Lance was still out here somewhere. He couldn't just leave him. He heard someone choke, probably Hunk trying to keep his crying quiet.

"I know, we will find him, but we need to keep you safe right now," Shiro explained, his voice equal parts tender and tactical. "Go to Blue. That's an order."

It took more mental energy to stand up than it had to jump off the cliff, but he managed it. Between the cold, the exhaustion, and the loss, it took a while to orient himself enough to even remember where the huge robot lion was. His foot slipped out from under him after only a few steps down the last pile he'd dug through, making him slide the rest of the way on his backside.

"What happened? KEITH!"

"I'm fine," Keith muttered hoarsely, standing up again, knowing that he was hunched over but also knowing that it didn't really matter since he was really, really alone down here. He hadn't thought, jumping out of Red, that this would be where the sunset found him. He'd thought, known, that he could get to Lance before it was too late. That he'd been down here so long without finding anything but the helmet was so confusing that it took up all his attention. He moved to Blue only because Shiro was practically coaxing his every step.

As he walked toward her, the light moved with him, reflecting off different bits of her. The claws, the jawline. She hadn't put up her particle barrier. Maybe she was broken as well as half covered in debris? He took another step and the setting sun flashed over her eye. Another and there was a glimmer off on Keith's left-hand side. He stopped before he knew what he was doing, turning slowly towards the unexpected glare, his brain and his body not in tandem as they should be.

"Lance," his voice said ahead of his recognition. The glare was from the reflective blue stripes on Lance's uniform. He was just lying there, not buried, just right there.

"Keith, I'm serious. You've got to stop and take cover for the night." Shiro, not understanding what Keith meant, not being able to see what Keith could see, still thinking that he had to convince Keith to abandon the search for what was undoubtedly their perished comrade. Adrenaline pricked through Keith's synapses, fired up his muscles. No wonder he hadn't found him in the piles of rubble. He'd somehow been thrown clear, and he was close to Blue. His teammates buzzed in his headpiece, but he could only pay attention to one thing right then.

"I found him," he said, quiet happiness like warm water adding to his adrenaline. "He's here. I got him." How many more ways could he say that? He dropped to his knees at Lance's side, inspecting the scene before touching him. The Blue Paladin lay crumpled on his stomach, his head turned toward Keith and his mouth slightly open. None of his limbs were bent strangely and there weren't any noticeable breaks in his bones. Honestly, he looked like he'd just decided to lie down and enjoy the sunshine only to accidentally fall asleep. Except for the dirt. Keith thought it was all streaks of dirt.

"I've got Lance," he said, quietly, again, disbelief making him repeat himself as he convinced his mind and soul that it was actually true. Here he'd been tearing the mountainside apart and Lance had been just behind him. If he'd taken a few more steps closer to Blue, the last three hours would never have happened.

"Keith," Shiro sounded worried, helpless.

"He's alive," Keith said, determinedly, watching Lance's back lift as he breathed. Hunk's shriek of joy at this news made him tip his head toward his shoulder as if that would help to stifle the noise. Hunk wasn't the only one whooping either. It seemed all the inhabitants of the castle had thrown an impromptu cheering party. But Keith knew better than to be too excited yet.

"Hey, Lance," he called, prodding him just a bit on his shoulder. He might not look injured, but the fact remained that he'd been knocked unconscious and stayed that way for several hours. That meant something was off. "Wake up." He tapped him gently on the face, then again not so gently, coming to the realization that he was going to have to somehow pick him up and carry him to Blue as complete uncooperative dead weight. But considering where he'd just come from, walking toward the lion thinking that he was actually lost, he thought he could live with that. But how to do it without hurting either of them?

"You're going to make me carry you, huh?" Keith continued to talk to his unresponsive teammate, feeling his limbs for unnoticed injuries as he did so. Maybe it would be better not to move him at all. Maybe they should just sit tight until Pidge and Hunk came up with something brilliant to get them back out of this fissure. Keith weighed his options. Should he try moving Lance at the risk of damaging him or should they stay where they are and risk hypothermia? Keith shifted to Lance's head, crouching above him and taking it with both hands. Again, everything seemed sound. He turned Lance's face left and right, his fingertips laced at the place where the vertebrae are the most delicate. Nothing.

"Where are you, Keith?" Shiro asked from where ever the castle rested, high above the atmosphere of the planet. "Are you in? Safe?"

"Almost," Keith answered, equally grateful that his teammates were sort of with him but getting annoyed that he had to keep narrating everything to them. Carefully, he pulled Lance to a sitting position, biting his lip uneasily as Lance's head dropped forward onto his chest. Next came a series of grunts and shoves as he clumsily tugged Lance up and over his shoulders, hunching forward at the strain. He straightened as much as he was able, finding his new center of gravity while balancing an extra human. He shifted his feet, finding it more difficult than he thought to get settled enough to actually walk.

"Keith! You gotta move!" Pidge shouted at him, and he felt a pang of hostility toward her. She could talk, out of sight, clean, fed, and warm. This wasn't as easy as it looked. It was like the ground was moving underneath him. "Keith! Rockslide!"

He twisted as much as possible without actually turning his body to look at Blue and saw exactly what Pidge was screaming about. No way to know what had triggered it, but another huge piece of the mountain was coming down right on top of him, shaking the entire canyon with the force, rumbling hard enough that he could actually feel the sound. A boulder the size of Blue's paw barreled down, followed by a river of gravel. Keith staggered the first couple steps as he pushed for momentum, then tore through the canyon path as fast as he could with Lance on his back. He could barely see, the light very far gone now and showers of dust pummeling him from every direction, and knew that any second he was going to twist an ankle off a rock or root or something. He couldn't fall, he couldn't slow, and he definitely couldn't stop. The roar of the slide was right behind him now, tearing down the cliff face. He could hear the booms of rocks, followed by haunting echoes, as they crashed into Blue, lying there helpless on her side without her Paladin.

"Keith!" The other paladins clamored in his headset, fearful, panicked. He didn't have the time or attention to answer them. He had to focus and move. There was no clear path down here, everything was at an angle, every step was paved by the remains of previous slides. He held on to Lance's leg and wrist tightly, hating how his head was knocking against his bicep, his back. This couldn't be good for him, but it was better than staying where they were.

"Keith! Keith, are you ok? Come on, answer us!" And then the inevitable happened. Keith's foot slipped on a stone, wrenching his ankle down between where two rocks had settled together. He went down hard on one knee and then the opposite elbow, doing his best to protect Lance as he crashed to a stop. The Blue Paladin slipped from his hold, and Keith twisted up and around to cover him with his body, ready for the avalanche to come down on them, tightening his muscles as if that would help.

But it didn't come. It was startlingly quiet now that he'd stopped, only his own ragged panting and racing heartbeat in his head. He squinted into the shadows behind him. Blue was nowhere to be seen, whether the terrain had curved so she was just out of sight or whether she'd been completely buried, it was hard to tell. But everything was still for the moment. He let himself down, resting his head on Lance's upturned shoulder, bracing himself against his torso, glad that he wasn't awake to know that Keith was practically lying on him gasping for breath.

"Keith, please!" Pidge was crying now; he could hear it.

"It's ok," he panted, gagging a bit on the words. His entire respiratory system felt dusty. "We're ok." Except their shelter for the night was no longer an option. He heard the team breathe in relief, and he rolled off Lance onto his back, gasped twice, then flipped himself over to cough and spit a mouthful of mud onto the ground. The dust was settling, but it was absolutely everywhere. In their hair, on their eyelashes, inside his mouth. Everywhere.

Once he could pay attention to something besides getting enough oxygen into his lungs, he examined Lance again. He remained unresponsive, but he was still breathing. In the last moments of light, Keith dragged him toward a massive fallen boulder. It was as safe as they were going to get tonight. Pidge continued to talk to him, but he couldn't quite make out any specific words she might be saying. He was focused on pushing Lance as close to the stone as possible, and his ears were clogged and distorting the sound. She was saying something about cold, maybe, or dark. Something there was plenty of down in the canyon. Lots of cold and dark. He cleared his throat once more, spitting as much muck out as he could, then scooted himself close to Lance, too tired to think.

"Keith, are you there?" Shiro's tone more than his words woke Keith up enough to struggle to listen.

"Yeah," he croaked, making an attempt to lift his head.

"We're here, too," Shiro assured, and Keith nodded without remembering that his leader couldn't see him. "Do what you can for shelter and get some rest. Someone's going to be monitoring you; we'll take it in shifts. We'll figure this out. How's Lance?"

"He won't wake up," Keith answered, looking at Lance's face, barely being able to make out his features anymore in the dark. "But that's it. I can't tell if there's anything else."

"Ok," Shiro said, and Keith knew he was nodding to himself, thinking hard for some encouraging thing to say in this ridiculous disaster of a situation. "We'll get you. We just need some time."

"I got all night," Keith said, trying to lighten the mood for Shiro, who rewarded his effort with a half-hearted sniff of amusement.

"You did good, Keith," he complimented. Keith allowed himself a smile. He removed his helmet, huddled close to Lance for warmth, and slept.

Pure physical strain wasn't enough to keep him asleep, however. It was still dark when he woke up shivering. There were no stars that he could see from down here, and no moon either. He twisted, checking Lance, who was the same. Eyes closed, breathing steady. He patted his face, just in case that might rouse him. It didn't. Keith pushed up against him, curling his arms like a mummy and tucking his head into Lance's shoulder. It was so cold down here. He wondered who was still awake in the castle, whose turn it was to make sure they were safe. He almost picked up his helmet to find out, but didn't want to move that much in the cold. Trying to get even closer to Lance, he closed his eyes and willed himself back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

This scenario repeated itself for the remainder of the night. Keith would wake, check Lance, clear his throat, try to find a warmer position, then close his eyes again. He had no way to tell how long he slept at each interval, and he lost track of how many times he woke up. At one point, he thought he saw the castle overhead, looking like the only star in the galaxy, but he wasn't sure. Lance breathed steadily throughout the night, the only reassuring sound in the unnatural quiet of this dead planet. Keith shivered against him, eyes closed, waiting for the warmth of daybreak.

Light was just making its way down into the canyon, long before the temperature would increase, when Keith gave up trying to sleep anymore. His muscles were stiff and aching from lying on the hard earth, from all that he'd asked of them yesterday. Carefully, he extracted himself from Lance, pushing himself upright and looking around. There was no birdsong down here. He put on his helmet, thinking about backtracking to where he'd left Blue, to see if she were functional, to see if she'd let him pilot her if it meant saving her true Paladin. He'd done it once before with the Black Lion. It wasn't a completely crazy plan.

He'd gone about half a dozen steps, thinking incredulously the entire time about how he'd actually run down this yesterday with Lance on his back, when an unexpected sound stopped him. He paused, unsure what it might be. It was somewhere between a growl and a moan. Then a hesitant, "Hello," that Keith recognized instantly. Lance had woken up. Pivoting on the spot, Keith barreled back to where he'd left Lance against the rock, coming to his side just as he was pushing himself up to a sitting position, one hand on the ground behind him and the other pressed against his head.

"Hey," Keith greeted, skidding to his knees beside him, amazed at how happy he was to see him up and moving. But before he could say anything else, Lance shocked him with a heavy shove against his chest, followed with a clumsy punch that didn't land, but Keith suspected Lance had been aiming for his face.

"Stay back!" Lance threatened, shoving himself to his feet but swaying in such a way that he'd only be up for a couple seconds. Keith tried again to get close, grabbing Lance by the shoulders to keep him from collapsing on the rocks, but again Lance twisted desperately to get free, bringing both fists up to break Keith's grip. "Get off!"

"Stop fighting me, you idiot! I'm trying to help you!" Keith shouted after Lance had ripped away from his supportive hands and stood, shaky, with his fists by his ears, boxer-style.

"Keith?" Lance asked, blinking quickly, and suddenly they were both confused. Keith felt his right eyebrow shoot up in astonishment as he spread his hands out to his sides, waiting for Lance to recognize him standing right in front of him.

"Yeah?" He answered sardonically, wondering what the hell Lance was doing. He didn't have long to puzzle it out before he had to step in again to catch Lance as he toppled over. This time the taller boy allowed the contact, but his weight made them both hit their knees on the ground. Keith leaned in to the rock that had been their pathetic shelter last night as Lance made it clear that he'd used pretty much all his strength in their unexpected spat a moment ago. As gravity pulled them both downward, Keith ended up with Lance's head on his lap, staring down into his face.

"Keith," Lance panted from where he lay on his back, his arms folded across his chest in a protective gesture. "Where are we?"

"About a thousand feet down a canyon, luckily not buried in a rockslide. Do you remember anything?"

"Yeah, falling, and Blue sort of knocked me. That's it; that's all I've got." Keith studied him as he spoke, a sense of unease pricking him between his shoulders. Something was wrong, but he didn't know what.

"How do you feel?" He asked, trying to figure out what Lance was looking at. Not at Keith, just up and off somewhere, right into the glare of the morning sun.

"Like I just fell off a thousand-foot cliff." Keith snorted, relieved only partly by the attempted joke. "You?"

"Like I jumped down after you," he answered.

"You _jumped_?" Lance repeated, and the absurdity of it only then hit Keith. What a stupid thing to do. And yet, he probably wouldn't change the decision if he had to make it over again. He cleared his throat, trying to move some of the muck that was still clinging there, feeling how thirsty he was for the first time.

"What's going on down there?" A sleepy voice through his headset startled him. Hunk. It must have been his shift to be listening in just in case they needed any verbal assistance down here. But Hunk could only hear Keith, not Lance. Lance's helmet had been lost in the last rockslide. Lance rolled off Keith's leg to sit up, sort of. Mostly he leaned against the rock, resting his head against it with his eyes closed. "You talking to Lance?"

"Yeah," Keith confirmed, monitoring his teammate with concern and standing. "He's awake."

"That's fantastic!" Hunk exclaimed, waking up completely. "That'll make this easier."

"Make what easier?" Keith asked, even though he didn't want to. The odds of it being any kind of easy were likely in the slim to none range. Now that the sun was warming the canyon, all he really wanted to do was sleep another few hours, after he drank a glass of water the size of a child's swimming pool.

"So Pidge and I stayed up way late last night working out how to get you guys up. Because you know we can't take the lions anywhere near you without risking crushing you or burying you alive." Keith nodded, forgetting again that Hunk couldn't actually see him do it. "Anyway, the best thing to do seems to be to have you guys walk yourselves out of the canyon."

"Hunk," Keith said, overwhelmed, looking up worriedly at the unstable sides of the canyon. The steep, crumbling sides of the canyon. "I don't know what it looks like on your monitor, but there's no way. It's way too steep."

"I said walk out, not up. Obviously, you can't climb out. Listen. We did some area scans, and it looks like you can follow the fall path of the canyon. Eventually it leads out to a flat area where we could bring the lions down to get you. Then once everyone is off this planet, we can dig out Blue."

"Couldn't we just go back to Blue and fly her out?" Keith asked hopefully. Now that Lance was awake, that seemed the best option.

"Yeah, no, sorry. The rockslide yesterday completely buried her. The other lions are the only way we're getting her out at this point." Keith sighed resolutely. Of course she was buried. Of course there was no other way out.

"How far is 'eventually' in, say, miles?" Keith mused, peering as far as possible the direction Hunk was thinking he should go. All he could see were the towering shadows of the canyon walls which could suddenly cave in on them at any point. On the plus side, there was absolutely no way to get lost.

"Yeah, it's kind of far. We're guessing about twenty-three miles. It'll take you all of today, for sure, but you should be able to make it out by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Keith squawked, coming to terms with the idea that he would have to spend another night in this pit.

"Keith? What?" Lance asked, still on the ground leaning on the rock, only hearing half the conversation and not being able to take it anymore. But he wasn't ready to repeat it yet. He had to process it first. He wasn't even sure if Lance could walk, much less perform the kind of acrobatics it was going to take to follow that angled line for twenty-three grueling miles. But with Blue buried and the canyon walls so unstable, what else were they going to do? "What are they saying?"

"All right, Hunk, we'll get moving," Keith acknowledged the plan reluctantly.

"We're here, man," Hunk encouraged weakly. It was true, they were there, voices in his head. But it was only him and Lance down here in the dirt with absolutely zero supplies.

"Keith," Lance began again, not liking being ignored. "What's the plan? They're not coming to get us?"

"Apparently there's only one way out of here," Keith told him. "And it's twenty-three miles that way." He gestured down the fall path, feeling all the places on his body that were probably bruised. He cleared his throat again. Lance pushed himself to his feet using the rock for balance. His face had changed. He suddenly looked terrified. It freaked Keith out. "Come on," he commanded, nodding his head the way they were going to start, needing them to get moving so he could push away whatever anxiety was trying to do to his head. "You can walk, right?"

"Keith," Lance said, very slowly. "What do you mean 'that way'? How can you tell what way is anything when it's absolutely pitch black down here?"

"What are you talking about?" Keith responded, suddenly cold again. He stepped close to Lance, right in front of him and stared. "It's not dark."

"Keith," Lance repeated in a tone that sounded rather like a warning, holding out a hand, which touched Keith on the chest first but Lance slid it up so that it rested on his shoulder. "There is absolutely no light here at all, and that's not funny." The solemnity of it told Keith that he wasn't joking, that he was really scared. Keith mimicked the gesture, gripping Lance's shoulder in shock, understanding now why Lance hadn't known he was there when he woke up, why he'd been staring straight at the sun, why he couldn't tell where they were.

"Please tell me you're not serious," he said, but as he spoke he took Lance's chin in his hand and turned up his face. "Open your eyes."

Lance made a strange sound, somewhere between a laugh and a cry, but he did what he was told. Keith flinched. The pupils were blown wide, almost obscuring the iris completely. Keith turned Lance's head gently, watching as they didn't react to the light of the sun. "Oh shit."

"What's happening?" Hunk again, listening in on the helmet radio. "You guys ok?"

"Keith!" Lance cried as it hit him that he actually couldn't see, that it wasn't just because he'd fallen into some lightless hole. Keith grabbed him as the shock of this news made his knees buckle, and once again they were back on the ground where Lance had both his hands pressed tight against his face. "Oh my God! Keith!"

"What is it?" Hunk asked again. "Seriously?" Keith ignored his helmet.

"Shhh," he said to them both as Lance curled over his supporting arm in complete panic. He put a hand on Lance's back. "You must have really hit your head." Lance made a sort of choking noise, struggling to tuck himself into a tiny ball with Keith's arm in the way. Keith swallowed as his throat constricted unexpectedly. He couldn't even imagine. "Stop it. Hey! Listen, listen to me!" He jerked Lance, who winced, then pushed him upright, taking his head in both hands and pressing slightly. The tears in Lance's eyes looked weird and dangerous. Keith swallowed again, hard, as he noticed how there was no focus there. "Can you see anything at all? Shadows? Blurriness? Colors? Motion? Anything?"

"No," Lance whimpered, his breathing speeding up in a scary way. "Nothing. There's nothing, Keith!"

"Ok," Keith started repeating, reflexively. He shifted his hands from Lance's face to his shoulders, as if that would hold him together. "Ok. That's ok. We're going to get out of here. It'll be fine." Lance's internal struggle was evident in his breathing. He was trying to calm himself down, but Keith could tell that even though the leash on his panic was tight it was also brittle and likely to snap any second.

"Come on, stand up," Keith ordered, physically lifting Lance off the ground. "We're getting out of here. It's going to be ok."

"I . . . I can't," Lance moaned, and Keith wondered if that were actually the case. Even though he was standing, it was obvious that he couldn't stay that way on his own. He'd tilted his head to one side, his eyes tightly closed, and one hand pressed against his temple. Keith pondered the possibility of carrying him. He'd done it yesterday with the help of his good friend adrenaline. But twenty-three miles . . .

"Yes, yes you can," Keith assured, trying to convince himself.

"Keith? Keith!" A new voice on the helmet radio now. Allura had joined the party.

"What?" Keith asked, not as politely as he'd intended. As soon as he'd answered, he regretted it, then immediately scanned his surroundings in case what Allura had been doing was warning him of another rockslide nearby. "I'm sorry," he amended. "Go ahead."

"From what I can piece together from what you're saying, I'm taking it that Lance has been blinded?" Whenever Allura talked, it always reminded Keith of running water. It made him swallow repeatedly, trying not to gag on the clump of dirt clinging to the sides of his throat.

"Yeah," he confirmed, and then gently began tugging Lance forward. "Come on, Lance. Take a step." Without consciously thinking about it, Lance took the step to keep contact with Keith, trembling with the effort and the fear. Keith took another step backward, repeating the whole process, readjusting the pressure he had on Lance with each of their shuffling footsteps as he got acquainted with just how messed up Lance's balance was at the moment. Even as he moved, Lance was whimpering protests, but so long as he kept moving, Keith didn't acknowledge or respond.

"Is there an actual eye injury?" Allura continued as they began to slowly make their way from the rock where they'd spent the night. "Bleeding? Puncture?"

"No, nothing like that," Keith answered, keeping his voice calm and steady, hoping that Lance was so focused on whatever he was mumbling to himself that he wasn't really listening as he tried to diagnose what had happened with someone who wasn't actually present and actually hadn't been studying the workings of a human body all that long. "I think he hit his head, really hard, just right."

"I agree, and that's both good and bad."

"Keep going," Keith said both to Lance and to the princess.

"It's good in that his vision is likely to return to normal."

"Uh-huh," Keith encouraged, mentally preparing himself not to react, at least verbally, to the bad news when it came.

"But it means that what is actually injured here is Lance's brain. Can you make out a head wound of any kind?"

"No," Keith answered, looking hard at Lance, then over his shoulder to where he should step next, then back at Lance. His skull was intact, he'd checked that yesterday. Whatever was going on, it was all internal and invisible.

"That's worrisome," Allura said, unnecessarily. "Can he move unassisted?"

"He's walking," Keith answered, tightening his right arm as Lance lurched to that side, half tripping on the uneven terrain and half just losing his balance. "Not so much unassisted."

"Keep on, then, but watch him carefully. There must be some sort of bleeding or swelling, something putting pressure on the optic nerves. This pressure might continue to build depending on the type of injury. It could kill him."

"So what do I do?" Keith asked desperately, fixing his gaze on Lance in horror at this information that he could just keel over at any second.

"Given your current situation, really there would be nothing you could do. He needs a healing pod, as quickly as you can get him to us. Let us know immediately if Lance loses consciousness. If he starts slurring his words, hallucinating, vomiting. If he loses function or feeling in any of his limbs."

"Allura," Keith said, alarmed and overwhelmed. "Isn't there some way to come down here and pick us up?"

"We're working on that right now. This is more serious than we thought, but it's also a huge risk to take a lion or even a pod onto the planet. In the meantime, please make your way to the spot where we can get to you safely."

"But what if," Keith hesitated repeating any of the horrible things she'd just told him to watch for in case Lance were listening to him. He didn't want to freak him out any more than he was already. "What should I do?"

"Unfortunately, there is really nothing you could do except be there for him in his final moments."

"That's the worst plan ever," Keith accused, suddenly furious. If it were up to him, the risk would be worth taking. Lance needed some help now, not twenty-three miles from now.

"I'm so sorry. If it helps at all, it could be that this is as bad as it's going to get. There is also a chance that he could begin improving. His sight could return in a matter of hours." Keith was unconvinced.

"Whatever. Look, I need to concentrate, ok? We're going dark for a while."

"Keith," Allura said quickly, as if frightened he was going to do something stupid like turn off his helmet radio again.

"I'm here," he assured her, though bitingly. "This is just . . . this is really hard."

"I know; I just wanted to tell you thanks for being so brave, or so foolish, yesterday. I know Lance is in good hands; I think you may be the best choice of a companion for him right now." Keith allowed himself an eye roll at that. He and Lance struggled to get along at the best of times. "You may not believe that," Allura continued as if she'd seen him. "But just think. If anyone could motivate Lance to push just a little bit more, even if it's just for spite, that's you. Remember that."

"We'll check in later," Keith said, not knowing what else to respond. "Someone's on rockslide watch up there?"

"Of course. We're also getting some supplies together for you. I'm just not sure how we will get them down there yet."

"That would be great, but Allura?"

"Yes?" Her voice was hopeful, almost desperate, and for a second Keith understood how awful she felt, how powerless, how she wished she could do more for him, how she hated that her hands were tied like this.

"If it's a choice between final moments and a potential slide, we are agreed on the slide, right?"

"If it comes to that, but I really don't want to risk it."

Better than losing Lance, Keith thought darkly, but decided against saying it out loud. He'd voiced his opinion, but they were at the mercy of others' decisions right now. The people making the choices were hovering above the atmosphere, watching on a monitor the seismic activity of the surface layer.

"Final moments, Keith?" Lance repeated in a shaky, quiet voice.

"What's that?" Keith responded, playing dumb, realizing his mistake. If he'd been trying to keep secrets from Lance, that hadn't been the best thing to say out loud.

"That's what you said. Final moments," Lance sounded so scared, so out of his element. Keith cleared his throat ineffectively. "What's that mean?"

"I did not," he denied.

"Are we going to die down here?" Lance tried to get more information, absolutely terrified.

"No," Keith said sharply, shaking his head for emphasis before remembering that it would be a worthless gesture right now. "That's not going to happen. We are sure as hell not dying down here, got me? Now keep walking." His voice sounded harsh to him, but he needed to make it clear. They just had to keep moving. Hopelessness would be one of their worst enemies, and Lance was really close to giving in to it.

"Then what did you say?" Lance demanded as he shuffled clumsily over the terrain. But there was no way Keith was repeating anything he'd just talked about.

"Uh-uh," he said, the sound catching and making him cough. "Don't worry about it, just keep moving."

They struggled together for a while, Keith noticing how terribly slow their progress was, how awkward their movements. Lance gripped his arms hard, sometimes forced to put all his weight into Keith to avoid falling. It seemed every few steps that his knees would give way, forcing Keith to twist, catching him under the arms and bracing him against his hip.

"Keith," Lance began again, and Keith tried to take a deep breath of patience. Even blind and stuck on a deserted planet, Lance would not keep his mouth shut. "Where's Blue?" Ah, sure. That one made sense. Keith forgave him this question. If it had been him, he would want to know where his lion was too.

"She's behind us," he answered, trying to be gentle about it. "You weren't buried in the slide yesterday, but she was. The other lions will have to dig her out."

"Do you think she's ok? I can't hear her or feel her or anything." This comment stung Keith harder almost than anything else Lance had said. He hadn't been a Paladin very long, but now that he knew what that bond felt like, to be connected to that huge, ancient consciousness, he couldn't imagine having that taken away from him. Especially at a time like this when that constant presence in his head was a steady comfort, energy he could borrow. Even though Red was high above him, safe in the castle, he could still feel her strength inside his psyche and knew that if anyone asked he could point directly to her in an instant. But Lance couldn't. He'd been forced to ask where Blue was. And that made him worry. What if Blue were damaged? Could the sentience in the machine die? And how would that affect Lance, now that he couldn't tap into such a powerful connection? It wasn't just the loss of his sight that was bothering him.

"She's going to be ok, just like you," Keith assured, not knowing if he were lying or not, but willing to say just about anything to Lance right now if it helped him at all. "But we need to get off the planet first before we can dig her out. I bet Hunk can do it in less than a minute."

"How far is it again?" Lance repeated, already sounding exhausted, his voice dark, tinged with the hopelessness that Keith was also struggling to keep at bay.

"Just keep going," Keith reminded him. "Don't think about it."

The canyon warmed as the sun moved over them, but it never actually got all the way down to where they were. The dust in the air that never fully settled made the whole place seem to shimmer in the sunbeams that did make it past the steep cliff sides. From time to time, they could hear echoes of the rocks as they tumbled down the walls. The castle didn't say anything about these other slides, but it wasn't long before Keith lost track of how many times he heard the ominous rumbling of the canyon collapsing on itself. He froze every time, disrupting their momentum, staring all around as if he could determine the location of the sound, pleading silently each time that it wasn't close by, that it wouldn't set off some sort of chain reaction that would bring the entire thing down at once.

Lance stopped speaking, and even though Keith was rather hoping not to have to talk for a while, he found he missed the chatter. A quiet Lance was strange and uncomfortable. Keith kept a close eye on him even though it was almost physically painful to look at him. Lance's head lulled to one side, like it wasn't worth the effort to hold it up, looking like some sort of animated corpse. He hunched over their hands, shuffling instead of walking, not trusting his footing or Keith's encouragement that he wasn't going to fall. Keith had to pull him at every step. And if he did stumble, which was often, it took even more tugging to get him to start moving forward again. There was so much effort involved in moving just a few inches.

Periodically, Lance would just stop short, his breath catching sharply as his face twisted up in pain. Keith's heart would stop too as he watched, tightening his hold on his teammate, wondering if this were a symptom Allura had mentioned.

"What's up?" He asked the first few times, trying to be nonchalant, not wanting to clue Lance in that he was monitoring him for a ruptured aneurysm or something equally fatal.

"Nothing," Lance would insist, making Keith bite his tongue. Obviously, it wasn't nothing.

"Then let's go," Keith prompted, and they would start moving again. He continued to try and clear his throat, never completely dislodging the ball of mud that was drying there. It became harder and harder to even swallow as his mouth became dry and sticky. The discomfort made him cough, twisting his head into the crook of his elbow carefully so as to not shift Lance's balance too much. It took so little to knock him off balance right now.

"You all right?" Lance asked him as the coughing got more and more frequent.

"Yeah," Keith assured when he could talk again after another episode. "Just got something in the back of my throat from trying to dig you out yesterday."

"I guess there's no such thing as water down here, is there?" Lance asked half hopeful and half resolute. Keith swallowed reflexively at the mention of a drink; his lips were already sticking together in a distractingly uncomfortable manner.

"There is nothing down here at all except rocks and dirt. There aren't even any trees," Keith answered, all resolute.

"That explains why the ground is so unstable," Lance mused. "No roots to hold anything together."

Lance's foot caught on a rock that Keith had neglected to mention to him. His immediate reaction was to crumple at the knees rather than fall forward, which pulled him out of Keith's steadying grip. He lost his balance and crashed to one side, catching his upper arm on a sharp rock and wedging his foot between two more. He grunted in pain, and Keith winced for him, hating that he hadn't been able to catch him this time.

"Sorry," he apologized, crouching down to help get him upright again. "There's a rock there."

"Too late," Lance muttered between clenched teeth, covering his arm with his free hand. Keith shifted the rock to free his foot as he recovered from the fall, then grabbed at Lance's wrists to haul him up. Lance gripped back, doing his best to get to his feet. They stood together, but almost immediately Lance hunched forward again, forcing Keith to brace himself to accommodate the extra weight leaning on his forearms.

"Come on," he grunted, losing his patience, hating how this was going.

"Wait," Lance panted, resting his head on the back of their joined hands.

"We really can't do that," Keith admonished, scanning their surroundings. Nothing but canyon walls as far as he could see, and no way to tell how much daylight they had left.

"I know, I'm just . . . I'm just so dizzy."

Keith mouthed a swear word, looking around again as if for some assistance, some way out that he hadn't noticed before. As he tried to think, coming up with nothing, Lance slowly straightened.

"Ok," Lance said, unconvincingly.

"Better?" Keith checked, bending to look up into his face, as if that would tell him anything helpful. His eyes remained closed tightly; it made him more comfortable when they were closed; it kept the panic in check. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, not enough spit to make the motion as smooth as it usually was. "Lance?"

"Better," Lance agreed, again unconvincingly.

"All right," Keith said, relieved. He cleared his throat unsuccessfully, coughing a bit. "Then let's go."

And they pressed on, the list of aches and discomforts growing in both number and intensity. Sometimes Lance's breathing would get away from him as it hit him again that he was blind. Panic would seize him and he would cry out, and once he'd stopped moving, his knees would threaten to give out on him. Each time, Keith would grab him with one arm around his waist, the other around the back of his neck, to keep him grounded and upright.

"I can't see," Lance would sob, slicing into Keith's soul. He would close his eyes too and put pressure on Lance where ever he touched him to distract him from thinking about it too hard, to keep him fixed where he was, on the mission at hand.

"Shh," he'd say. "I know. I know, but it's going to be all right. We'll get out of here, tuck you in a healing pod, and it will be like it never happened."

"But what if it doesn't work?" Lance would always ask, but Keith would not accept that scenario.

"It will! But we have to get there. So come on," and the pulling would start over, breaking into their lurching shuffle again.

Lance asked more questions between bouts of panic, pain and silence, nervous, frightened questions, about the terrain, about the plan, about the time, and about the others. The castle too would ask questions, sometimes to Keith and sometimes to Lance. Keith answered what he could, acting as a relay between the castle and Lance, but found that his voice was deserting him, that it was a physical struggle to get any words past his raw throat. In the end, after another question from Lance that was actually for Hunk, he snatched his helmet off his head and plunked it on to Lance's, almost knocking him over with the abruptness of the act.

"Here, ask him yourself," he snapped. "And don't stop."

Lance bit his lips, head bowed under the new weight of the helmet. His expression tightened as he turned his face away from Keith. He pretended not to notice and pulled him another step, making another attempt to get an effective swallow.

Once he was no longer an active participant in a conversation, time drew out into something meaningless. He tuned in and out of what Lance was saying to their teammates. He heard fragments of Lance's side of the chat, but since he couldn't piece the whole thing together, he let his thoughts drift, finding it difficult to concentrate on anything other than how thirsty he was, how tired his arms were from trying to keep Lance from falling, from wondering how far they had come and how much longer they were going to have to be out here.

He was jerked roughly back from this daze when Lance once again stopped short, which was starting to grate on his nerves. He knew that Lance was struggling, that this was hard for him, but why couldn't he understand that it wasn't going to get any better unless they got the hell out of this pit? He was about to say just this until he saw the expression on Lance's face. It was a different sort of panic this time.

"What's happening?" Lance shouted into the helmet abruptly. "What's going on up there?" His fingers clenched into Keith's arms painfully.

"What?" Keith asked, even though he'd been on the other side of this type of interaction and knew that Lance had to pay more attention to the helmet radio than to him.

"No!" Lance almost screamed, his strength failing him. Keith let him down as gently as he could, dropping to his knees beside him, trying to read what was going on by staring at the expressions of horror that passed over his features in waves. "Guys! Hunk! Guys?" Then he just went limp, hunching over his knees, touching his forehead to the earth in despair, making Keith twitchy.

"What!?" He yelled, not coping at all with the drama of watching without knowing what was going on.

"An attack," Lance finally answered in a broken, dead voice. "Zarkon." Keith stood up a little too quickly at the news, simultaneously scanning the skyline and shooting a hand out to catch himself on the nearest supporting boulder as his vision blurred from the abruptness of his motion. He knew where the castle was, or had been, but here inside the planet's atmosphere, down this far beneath the surface, there was no way to physically see what was going on.

"They're trying to lure the fight away from us," Lance explained, a little calmer. "They haven't done a wormhole jump, but they're out of range now."

"And we're on our own," Keith continued unnecessarily. He let himself drop down again next to Lance, leaning against the rock he'd already used to steady himself, sorting through this news. How large was the attack? A scouting party? A fleet? A warship? How were they going to fare with only three working lions and the castle defenses? His thoughts moved from outer space closer in as he then wondered what they were going to do. They'd been moving slowly, but he honestly thought that Pidge and Hunk would have worked out a better plan than the twenty-three mile hike before too long. Or at least that they could figure out how to get them some water. And now they were gone.

And maybe they weren't coming back.

"Keith," Lance began, but Keith didn't want to hear anything he had to say.

"I don't know," he answered to every possible thing that Lance would be about to say to him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I have no idea." And here he'd thought it couldn't get any worse. He heard Lance shift beside him, but he didn't move. There didn't seem to be much point. He hadn't realized how having the connection to the castle was helping him, how knowing that they were up there, monitoring them, had actually been keeping him moving. "I just don't know," he said again, very softly, feeling his muscles collapse on themselves, weighing down, resisting any attempt he might have made to pull himself off the ground. He swallowed hot blades down his throat, not enough to clear it, and did his best to get a deep breath. He had to get up, had to get Lance up again. They were on their own now, but they could not stop. He just had to get up. But he was so tired.

 **Authors Note:** I just want to make clear the medical inaccuracy in this story before someone does it for me. Cortical blindness (the kind that happens due to a blow to the head) will actually not affect the eye's ability to react to light. Lance's pupils would be doing their job just fine, but I liked that bit and wanted to keep it. Because why should I get tripped up by that tiny little detail when we've got sentient robot lions and fictional civilizations in space, eh?

LOTS more to come. I tried to make this just a bit of fluffy, hey I jumped into a canyon to save you, kind of story, but once again, the English major in me is resisting that kind of deal and wants something bigger. I have no idea how long this is going to be, but I'll do my best to get a chapter up on Tuesdays. However many Tuesdays it takes to get these guys out of this canyon, eh?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

He didn't know he'd fallen asleep until Lance's moan of discomfort jerked him awake. On instinct, he staggered to his feet only to have vertigo knock him back down again. He licked his lips as his vision cleared a bit, and saw Lance still beside him, curled up in the dirt, his hands clenched at the back of his head, his muscles tight and trembling.

"Lance," he croaked, crawling closer to him, not sure how much more worry he could take. Had Lance fallen asleep too or was this something dangerous? "Wake up." He closed his hands around Lance's wrists, trying to dislodge them from his skull. Lance's reaction upon waking was very similar to Keith's, but less coordinated. Like how he'd woken the first time, his first response was to rip himself out of Keith's hands.

"Take it easy," Keith tried to yell. "It's me."

"Keith?" Lance questioned in a strange tone of voice. "Where are we?" Déjà vu smacked him in the face, filling Keith with a sense of dread, reminding him that while Lance may look ok, not great but ok, he will still messed up enough that his life was in danger. "Why is it so dark?"

"We're still in the canyon," he explained, taking firm hold of Lance's wrists again, kneeling in front of him and taking stock of his teammate, as if he could determine from his face what sort of shape he was in, wondering if he should just flat out lie about why it was so dark. He had absolutely zero desire to watch Lance realize he was blind again. "What do you remember?"

Lance struggled to sit up, pushing himself against the rock Keith had rested against, his knees drawn up, elbows braced on his thighs so he could continue to hold his head in his hands. Keith let him go for the moment, unsure how to proceed. "Falling? Keith! Where's Blue?!"

So not good.

"She's fine," Keith assured, putting as much conviction into those words as his ruined voice would allow. How much should he tell Lance at this point? How much of their situation could he process? "We'll get her soon."

"Keith," Lance said his name as if he were praying to a deity, bowing his head down and clenching his hands at the base of his neck.

"Stop," Keith commanded, taking a deep breath, not wanting to watch this anymore. Lance's posture worried him. He decided on the truth. There really wasn't any way to sugarcoat anything that was going on right now. "I've got something to tell you, and it's going to suck, but I need you to listen and keep it together for me. Got it?"

"What?" Lance asked, wary. "Keith, what?!"

"Just stay calm. You did fall; you hit your head. You're having short-term memory issues, and you've temporarily lost your vision."

"I what!" Keith pushed against Lance's shoulders, keeping him still, clinging to him as if he could cage his panic with the pressure. He was not doing this again. "Keith, what?!"

"Keep it together, I said! It's temporary, I promise. We've been working our way to the mouth of the canyon that you fell down with Blue because that's the only place the team will be able to pick us up."

"You sound like I should know all this already."

"Well, you were there when we made the plan in the first place," Keith replied, lamely. "But it looks like your brain has just erased the last day or so. I think it's because you fell asleep."

"Erased?! How long was I asleep?" Lance kept his face to the ground, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly under Keith's hands. He pressed into them tightly, not knowing why he thought that would help but not really knowing what else to do to keep Lance from freaking out. He took a moment to try and pinpoint the direction of the sun. He wasn't really sure how long they'd slept, but probably not long?

"I'm not sure," he replied honestly, keeping his tone steady despite how often his voice cracked. "An hour? Maybe less."

"But I lost the whole past day?"

"All the time since you hurt yourself," Keith guessed, not understanding how it worked, not really knowing exactly how or how badly Lance had been hurt. They'd need the technology of the castle to give them that. He just hoped that Lance could make it there.

"Dios mio," Lance swore quietly, without any energy, processing what Keith had said.

"We should get moving," Keith said, not knowing what else to do, and knowing that the longer they stayed still, the harder it would be to start again.

"How?" Lance scoffed bitterly. "I can't see, Keith." Keith bit his lip hard, vowing not to let Lance fall asleep again until they were out of here. It was bad enough living through it once. Keith leaned his head on Lance's upturned knee, gathering his patience. Lance put a surprised hand on his hair, working out what was touching him. "Keith?" He questioned, and Keith sat up.

"I've been guiding you," he explained. "We're slow, but it's working."

"This isn't like the hologram maze in the castle, is it?" Lance said unexpectedly, confusing Keith for a minute until he remembered their training failure. He hadn't been such a great guide to Lance at that point in their lives. Not that he'd purposefully walked him into an invisible-to-him wall, but he could have done a lot better.

"Not even close," Keith answered, taking Lance's wrists and pulling. Lance groaned as he stood, and Keith put himself into position to catch him, knowing that this sort of disruption of equilibrium would stagger Lance momentarily. As expected, Lance's knees did not tolerate the idea of standing at first, but Keith was ready. He thrust his arms under Lance's as he went limp, letting his head fall onto his shoulder as he braced him with his hip.

"I got you," he grunted, as if this were normal.

"What the hell, Keith?" Lance panted, still folded against him. Keith stepped backward, pulling Lance on.

"Trust me," he pleaded. Lance's shoulders slumped, but he returned Keith's grip on his arms and resolutely took a step forward.

"You're right," Lance added, lurching to one side as his balance failed him. "This sucks. How far do we have to go?"

"I'm not answering that," Keith said, not knowing exactly how far they had left, but knowing it was still hopelessly far. Lance half tripped.

"What are we walking on?" He said, exasperated already after only a few steps. "You doing this on purpose?"

"It's a fall line," Keith told him, but had to pause to cough. "There's not much of a trail. It's mostly just picking through whatever fell down here. Not level. Looks like there's a curve ahead of us."

"Sucks," Lance said again.

"I know. But you're actually doing better than last time."

"That is not near as comforting as you think it is."

Keith smirked in spite of everything, and silent concentration settled between them as before. Except the silence was a little louder now that the castle was not here with them. Where were they? How far had they fled? How long would it take them to get back?

"Keith?" Lance cut in after they'd been moving again for another hour, or maybe slightly more. "Keith, wait, I need to stop." Keith sighed, giving a longing look behind him to where the curve was getting slightly closer. For some reason, he'd pinned his hope on that curve being the last one out. He knew it wasn't true, but he just couldn't help it. The wanting it to be true was driving out his common sense.

"What is it?" He asked, trying not to sound annoyed. He hated stopping.

"I've got to take my helmet off. I can't wear it anymore."

"Why?" Keith pressed, worry prickling over his skin again. Lance steadied himself on Keith's shoulder with one hand, removing the helmet with the other. As it came free, it knocked Lance off balance. He ended up dropping it and narrowly missed falling over. But Keith was getting rather good at knowing when Lance needed to be caught. "I got you. Your head hurt?"

"Yeah," Lance admitted, knuckles pressed against his forehead, and Keith could hear the understatement.

"Has it been getting worse?" He asked, worry warping into fear, remembering what Allura had said about the pressure on Lance's brain.

"It's fine," Lance said, as if he could just take it all back, as if he regretted bringing it up at all.

"That's some brave bullshit, but I need you answer me," Keith retorted, his words getting sharper.

"What difference does it make?" Lance whined. "Yes, it's getting worse. It's throbbing so hard I think I'm going to puke. I'm dizzy; I hurt everywhere. I want a drink; I don't want to move anymore. I can't feel Blue. Oh, and just in case you forgot. I. Can't. See."

"Ok," Keith broke in, actually somewhat relieved by the tirade. If Lance still had the energy for a rant like that, he might be able to make it out. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I just need to know what's going on with you."

"What do you care?" The question stung Keith. He didn't know what to answer, so he busied himself in balancing Lance and bending down to retrieve his helmet, slipping it onto his own head to stall for time.

"I just do," he finally responded. "Now let's go."

Lance's lips curled into a sulk, but he obediently stepped forward as Keith pulled him. Now that the helmet was off, his head tilted to the side again. Keith tried not to look at him too much. He was right. There wasn't anything he could do except get him out. He hoped he could hang on that long. Where was the castle?

"What did you do to your hands?" Lance asked out of nowhere as they continued down the fall line. Keith hadn't thought about his hands; they were just one more thing that hurt, along with his throat, his chest, his head, back, and shoulders. He took a second to look at them, seeing the broken skin where Lance was touching, the long scratches and scrapes. More than one of his fingernails was just gone.

"Nothing," he lied and caught the faintest ghost of a smile on Lance's face.

"Now who's talking brave bullshit?" Lance accused.

"I just scraped them up a little trying to dig you out yesterday."

"Dig me out?"

"Relax," he cautioned, sensing Lance beginning to freak out again. "You weren't actually buried." He didn't tell him how he'd be dead right now if that weren't true, how he really hadn't had any hope of finding him in all that fallout. "I thought you might be, though."

"Keith," Lance began after a minute of quiet thought. "I know I fell, but how did you get down here?" Keith sighed, remembering the wild ride into the canyon, the desperation, the dread.

"I jumped," he answered again, hating how he had to say things twice.

"You-"

"Jumped, yes, it was stupid. Forget about it."

"Keith," Lance sounded on the verge of tears, but Keith avoided looking at him or allowing him to stop.

"There's a drop here," he said abruptly. "You're going to have to get down, turn, and slide on your stomach. I'll go first and catch you."

"Keith," Lance said again, not wanting to let it go. "Thank you."

"I said forget about it. Here, get down."

He guided him as gently as possible over the drop, almost grateful for the interruption. He was waiting for Lance to ask him why he'd done it, and he didn't have a good answer. Well, he had an answer, but he wasn't sure if it was the right one. Fortunately, Lance had too much to pay attention to getting himself down and then steadying himself afterward to ask. After a moment of recovery, they started again.

Keith kept an eye on the curve, on Lance, on the terrain. He squinted at it, wondering why it looked like that, trying to figure out the angle. It was a curious mystery, and now that they were getting closer, he couldn't tell if it curved left or right. And before too long, as they finally reached it, he realized that the answer was neither.

"Oh no," he whispered as the thing that he'd thought was a curve in the path turned out to be a wall of rock. "No, no, shit, no."

"What is it?" Lance asked, worry sharp in his tone, his muscles tensing.

"The path's blocked," Keith said, shocked how simple those little words were for such a huge problem.

"Blocked? I thought the castle said that we could get out this way."

"Maybe it just happened after they scanned the route, but it's here now," Keith said, his voice growing in intensity and annoyance.

"Is there a way around?" Lance pressed. "Maybe to climb it?"

"You think we can climb it?" Keith snapped, more pissed at the wall in the way than anything Lance suggested without being able to see what they were up against. He'd be lucky to get himself over the wall, but to get Lance up and over. That would take more than he had.

"Well what do you think we should do?" Lance said, actually pouting.

"I'm going to go check it out," Keith said, needing a break, needing this to not be as big of a deal as it seemed right this second. "I'll be back," he promised, extracting himself from Lance. The Blue Paladin looked horrified once they'd broken contact, but he didn't say anything. Keith turned toward the rock, amazed at how light he felt now that he wasn't steadying his teammate. It felt so good to be walking forward instead of backward, without having to constantly tense and brace against Lance's weight as it tipped and pushed and flat out collapsed into him. He took a moment to roll his head in a slow circle, realizing he'd spent most of the day looking over his shoulder or down at the ground.

Now he looked up at the remains of a slide, walking a slow line at its base to see if there was any way through. On the left was the area where the slide had started, and the debris was piled far too high on that side to even consider. It sloped steeply toward the other wall of the canyon, and it looked as though when it hit it had caused that side to fall as well, but not as much, just a crumble straight down. The largest rocks were toward the left. The softer gravel and dirt covered on the right. And right where the two met, at ground level, there was a hole.

"You've got to be kidding me," Keith muttered hoarsely and walked the block again. No way over it, or through it. He started climbing the slope of the canyon, but before he got very far he heard something above him give way. Instinctively, he covered his head and made himself as small as possible on the hillside.

"Lance! Rocks!" He screamed, hoping Lance wasn't too far away to hear him. He closed his eyes and curled into himself, feeling himself sliding back down to the canyon floor. Once he stopped sliding, he straightened to take a quick look at the damage coming down after him. Several large rocks and a lot of dirt tumbled down toward him. As fast as his exhausted body would allow, he jogged painfully over to where he'd left Lance, allowing whatever was coming down to run out of momentum, watching with held breath as the rocks slammed onto the barricade, into the opposite side, dropping down on either side of the wall. He kept a careful hand on Lance, trying to figure out what he'd do if he'd started a cave in, if they had to run for their lives.

"What did you do?" Lance shouted in all the noise, but Keith didn't answer. It was over in less than a minute, returning to stillness and settling dust. Keith let go of Lance in order to brace himself on his knees, hacking hard.

"Keith!" Lance called, and Keith felt clumsy hands find places to rest on his back as he hunched over, gagging. He tried to spit, but it was a worthless effort. "Are you ok? What happened?" Little black spots appeared in the corners of Keith's vision, and he could feel the pressure of his coughing across his forehead. He continued to double over until he was all the way on his knees, his elbows also hitting the dirt. Lance dropped down with him, unable to stand by himself. There was a burst of pain in his gut and chest as he retched, his body doing its best about the dust in his system but failing miserably at it. "Keith!"

"It's ok," he gagged, trying to get himself under control. Trying to swallow. Trying to breathe. A few final coughs burst out of him, and he pressed his arm against his mouth, breathing hard, pushing his breath out with his stomach muscles, then breathing in shallowly through his nose. It made his heart hurt to do that, like there wasn't enough air for it to beat anymore, but it did stop the coughing.

"It's ok," he repeated, calmer as the fit passed, scrubbing his hands across his eyes, mixing tears in with the dirt on his face. "Looks like we can't get over that way, though."

"What happened?" Lance asked shakily.

"We can't climb over," Keith said flatly, collecting his strength to stand up again. "I'm going to go check one more time."

"Keith," Lance began, his voice worried. "You –"

"I'll be back," Keith said, unwilling to talk about anything right now. He cleared his throat and returned to the space where the dirt of one side held up the largest rock of the other, leaving that hole beneath. It was fortunately still there; he hadn't blocked it. He got down on his stomach, coughing, and tried to look through. There was no daylight on the other side, but that didn't mean it was impossible.

He straightened to his knees, looking back once at Lance who knelt like a lost soul, head hanging down as it had since he'd discovered he'd lost his sight.

"This is so stupid," he told himself, then wedged himself under the boulder, kicking himself tighter through the hole to see if there was any way they could pass that way. But what other choice did he have?

For the next three minutes, he was certain he'd killed himself. Once he was completely in the hole, there was no light to see by. He twisted, shoved, coughed, pushed, maneuvering his way almost like a corkscrew. The boulder above him did not move, but the dirt to one side gave slightly as did the earth beneath him. He hoped that his tunneling wouldn't move so much that the rock would finish falling, crushing him in the process. But he was too far into this to go back now.

He fought the dirt, fought the tightness, and above all, he fought the panic that threatened to paralyze him every second as he realized he could only move in the tiniest constrictions of his muscles. His elbows had to remain tight against his sides; he could only push with his feet by flexing his ankles a few degrees. The blackness under the rock made it impossible to distinguish if he were making any forward progress, or if he were just wedging himself in hopelessly. He had a moment of fear for Lance, waiting on the other side. What would happen to him if Keith didn't come back?

Just when he thought he couldn't take it one more second, he broke free. A few more squirms and he'd wrenched one shoulder out, then the other. With both hands on the outside, he could push against the boulder while lying flat on his back, freeing himself completely from the tunnel. He took a moment on his knees, panting and coughing, resting his aching head against the slab as he readied himself to go right back the way he'd come. This was it. This was their way through. Now he had to go back and get Lance. He steadied himself, preparing to go under again, rocking a bit on his heels to psyche himself up.

"So, so stupid," he said again, poking his head back into the darkness like a man making a dive under water.

He was alarmingly disappointed to discover that returning was even harder than going through the first time. The other way, gravity was on his side. The incline in the canyon was subtle, but definitely there. He'd disturbed the soil the first trip through, and now he had to claw it again out from under him to carefully make his tunnel large enough for passage, but not so large as to disrupt the huge boulder that weighed down on him like a Sword of Damocles, ready to crush him in an instant. On the other hand, he thought morbidly, if it did come down, it would be over so quickly, he would likely feel absolutely nothing. And maybe, he thought, even more grotesquely, maybe that would be a relief.

"Lance!" He called, trying to distract himself from the horror of the tunnel as he battled his way back. "I'm coming!" He repeated himself, using the words to keep his mind from seizing up. He wondered briefly if this was more a mental or a physical exercise; he honestly couldn't tell what part of him was exerting more effort. But again, like last time, he broke through just as his heart was constricting in disabling anxiety, clawing his way out and away from the mouth before limply resting on his knees.

He needed another minute, kneeling at the tunnel's mouth. He kept his eyes closed, gasping, gagging, his head swimming with the aftermath of it. How was he going to get Lance through this? How was he going to get himself through this?

"Keith, my God," he heard Lance say, surprisingly close. He opened his eyes enough to discover that Lance had managed to crawl his way over to him. "You sound horrible."

"I sound better than you look," Keith quipped, clutching his chest, hanging his head.

"I don't know, dude. That cough-"

"I found our way through," Keith interrupted him again, squinting against his headache. "But it's rough."

"Can't get much worse," Lance said, allowing the subject to change. Keith didn't challenge him on his assessment.

"There's a tunnel here," he explained. "It's tight. I'll follow you. When you get to the other side, just clear the exit and sit still."

"What are the chances that it'll just collapse on us?" Lance questioned in an alarmingly nonchalant way. They'd had so many near death experiences in the last thirty-six hours that it was too exhausting to get worked up about it anymore.

"I just went through twice," Keith encouraged. "I think it will hold."

"Let's do it," Lance replied tiredly. Keith took his hands and turned him toward the entrance. He moved his grip to Lance's wrists, then traced Lance's hands around the mouth of the tunnel to show him where it was.

"You're going to have to get all the way down," he instructed, pushing Lance's head down gently. "No way to get lost in there. Just keep moving forward." Lance folded his arms, lying on the ground on his stomach and burying his face in the fold. He looked like a toddler about to throw a tantrum. But he just took several deep breaths in preparation of what he was about to do. "I'll be right behind you," Keith promised.

"I hate this planet," Lance said, then stretched his long arms ahead of him and pulled himself into the tunnel. Keith watched as he worked his tall, lanky frame into the small space inch by frustrating inch, then listened to the scuffling sounds as Lance proceeded through.

"Doing great," he called awkwardly after him. "You're almost through." He had no idea whether this was actually true, but he wanted to keep Lance moving. He knew all too well how easy it was to get messed up in there. When he couldn't hear him anymore, he took some deep breaths for himself. His body was already tensing up, unwilling to cooperate with him, like a dog being forced into a crate by pulling on its collar.

"Last time," he promised, prostrating himself in the dirt and easing once more into the darkness.

And even though he'd done it twice before, even though he knew, actually knew first hand, that this was completely possible, that he was going to come out the other side, this time he couldn't do it. There was no light, and the ominous presence of the boulder above him pressed into his mind. He had a moment where his shoulders stuck tight, and his breathing got away from him, which started a coughing fit. He kicked desperately, twisting in a carnal, primitive way, feeling his lungs collapse. He drew his shoulder blades together on his back to the point of pain and pressed through, reaching out as far as he could with a hand, trying to find something to use to pull himself forward.

That's when Lance grabbed on to him, holding tight to his hand and also grabbing his wrist, pulling with his dwindling strength, drawing Keith out of the tunnel for the last time. Keith scrambled away from the mouth, but kept his hold of Lance, tucking his chin to his chest, gasping as if he'd been underwater.

"You're out," Lance was saying. "Calm down, buddy. You did it."

"I hate this planet," Keith echoed, lying on his stomach. Lance sniffed. "Every stupid piece of dust on it."

"Yeah," Lance agreed half-heartedly as he sniffled again. "It's going to be ok, though. Someone told me that once, and he's not the kind to kid around with stuff like that. Or, at all, really. To be honest, he's not the slightest bit funny." Keith felt the corners of his mouth turn up in a pathetic half smile. He was supposed to be saving Lance, but here their roles had swapped. Now it was Keith half lying in Lance's lap, receiving encouragement.

"Don't be like that," he panted. "Shiro's got a sense of humor in there somewhere."

"Ha. Hey, what do you think happened here?" Lance asked, sniffing a third time. "I mean, this is where that distress signal came from, someone must have been here at one time to send it."

"If anyone ever lived here, they're probably buried now," Keith said bitterly. "Or taken prisoner." He forced his aching arms to push him upright so he could see why Lance kept sniffling, sitting up and looking over at him just as he ran his hand under his nose. "Lance! You're bleeding!" On instinct, Lance held up his hand as if he could check it, while Keith put his hand at the back of his head and pushed him forward. "Lean forward; don't swallow anything." He kept his hand there, watching in disgusted horror as Lance's nose dripped bright red blood into the dust between their knees. Was this a dehydration thing or something else? Was it because Lance strained too hard getting through the tunnel? Pulling Keith out? "Steady," Keith encouraged, not feeling at all confident that he wasn't watching Lance bleed to death in front of him. "You're ok." He wasn't sure if he was talking to Lance or to himself, but it didn't matter.

"Keith?" Lance murmured, his voice thick.

"Yeah?" Keith asked weakly.

"You're hurting me."

Keith jerked his hand away from where he'd been pushing, standing at the same time to see what the canyon looked like from this side of the wall.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Take a break for a minute. Just don't move."

"I'm not."

"Ok. I'm going to do a quick look around." Before Lance could agree or protest to his plan, he jogged shakily away, hand pressed on his chest still. The more distance he put between him and Lance, the harder he pressed. He felt his control slipping, the situation stretching forever in front of him, too far, too hard.

"Guys?" He called hopelessly into his helmet radio, out of earshot but turning back to monitor Lance on his knees. "Guys, please, can you hear me? We need you pretty bad. Lance can't keep doing this. And I - " Silence. "Don't make me watch him die down here by myself. Please?"

 **Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, and thank you again to those few darlings out there who reviewed my previous chapters. Obviously, I would write this story because it's in my head and I have no other choice but to get it down on paper, but to get some feedback from others who like Voltron as much as I do - that's special. Please keep it up!**


	4. Chapter 4

I'm out of town for a funeral this week and my time with my computer is dramatically short, so I thought I'd upload this chapter a little early while I have the chance. Enjoy!

Chapter Four

He waited for an answer, but none came. He looked up at the unrelenting walls of the canyon to see if there were any way to climb up to higher ground. There wasn't. He looked down their never-ending path to see if there was any change ahead. Nothing. The only change he could make out was the sun. They were running out of daylight. Soon it would be dark and cold again. Keith coughed against his arm, spit out what he could, and resolutely started walking back to Lance, who was still huddled on the ground on all fours.

"I think it's done," Lance said, hearing Keith's footsteps as he came to a stop beside him. Keith went down on one knee, putting one hand on Lance's shoulder and bending down to check on the bleeding. It did seem to have stopped, but judging from the mess on the ground, it had taken a while. "Do I have blood all over my face now?"

"Not really," Keith said, checking that over too. "Just a bit." The way that Lance had tried to wipe it off at first had now given him a rather savage look, like he'd been eating raw meat or something. But it was just going to have to stay that way.

"I didn't know you were so squeamish," Lance accused, trying to smile, but being too tired to complete the effort, mistaking completely the reason Keith had needed to walk away from him.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Keith said, then regretted it. He didn't want to tell Lance the real reason he'd had to walk away was because he was afraid of Lance dying in those moments. He hadn't thought long on it when Allura mentioned it as a possibility, but if he'd given it more than a second this morning, he would have thought himself completely capable of sitting next to Lance for his final moments. He'd thought he would be strong enough to be there for him as Allura had said. Now that it was becoming more and more of a possibility, it was also becoming increasingly clear that watching Lance die, holding his hand while it happened, was not something he was strong enough for.

"I got time," Lance invited, but Keith was already shaking his head.

"Nuh-uh," he voiced his opposition to opening up about himself, shaking his head against the dark thoughts he'd allowed to take root there about how much time Lance might have left. "You first."

"Maybe we should just get going," Lance sighed, but Keith couldn't tell exactly why.

"Come on, then," he said, putting his hands under Lance's arms and gathering his strength into his knees for another lift. "Up you get." They stood. Keith caught Lance as he buckled, then quickly used his thumbs to dash away two tears that dripped from his sightless eyes, watching him biting his lip in annoyance and pain.

"You're doing great," Keith said, wishing he sounded more genuine. He did mean it. Lance bit his lips harder as they trembled, and he nodded weakly, leaving his head hanging after he'd finished. "Take a step."

The sun moved over them, and the shadows followed. The air chilled as it had the previous evening. Keith pondered the idea of stopping for the night, finding somewhere to wait out the cold. It was getting harder to move, harder to see the rocks they were walking over. Lance plodded along as well as ever, but Keith struggled to guide him. As darkness fell, he stepped wrong off a larger rock, wrenching his ankle and pulling Lance down on top of him as he faltered to his right. He ended up getting Lance's knee pounded on his hip and they knocked heads. That didn't matter much to Keith, who was wearing the helmet, but Lance cried out and curled up instantly.

"Sorry!" Keith apologized, as if that would help, putting one hand on Lance's shoulder and the other on his head. Lance cradled his injured skull in both hands, writhing. "You ok?"

"Just get off!" Lance wailed, and Keith obeyed, standing up and pacing in a protective circle around Lance to work off his worried energy. For a couple scary seconds, the writhing looked like it was working its way into a complete seizure, but in the end Lance calmed down and held completely still, lying on his side.

"Better?" Keith asked, concerned, guilty, still walking around his teammate.

"It's cold," Lance noticed now that he was still, ignoring the question.

"Sun's going down," Keith told him. "It's getting hard to see."

"Tell me about it," Lance replied, surprisingly bitter.

"I'm sorry," Keith repeated, forcing himself to stop pacing.

"Maybe we should stop?" Lance asked, hopeful, unmoving. "Rest somewhere until morning?"

"We could," Keith began, hesitant. There were many reasons he didn't want to do that, even though he knew they probably should.

"Why am I sensing a 'but' in there?" Lance said. Keith joined Lance on the ground, putting a hand on his knee.

"I'm worried if I let you go to sleep that you'll lose your memory again," Keith told him, honestly. "I don't want to have to explain to you why it's so dark when it's not. I've done it twice now, and that's more than enough." And a part of him was honestly afraid that if Lance slept he might not wake up at all. Lance sighed, all exhausted hopelessness.

"Should we keep going, then?" He asked, depending on Keith to make the right decision.

"Let's try a little longer," Keith suggested, getting under Lance's arm to help him upright. His back protested the motion almost as completely as Lance's knees, but eventually they made it, as they always did. Except this time when Keith pulled Lance forward for that first step after a rest, he didn't take it. His foot sort of dragged, and then Keith had to move in close to catch him before he fell on his face.

"Easy," he said, his worry meter wrenching to unbearable again. "What was that?"

"I dunno," Lance said tiredly. "I thought I was moving."

"Try again," Keith commanded, giving the familiar tug and stepping backward. Lance stepped forward using his other leg, but the right one buckled again under him as he rested his weight on it. "What's going on? What's up with your leg?" That's when Keith noticed that Lance's right hand was not gripping his wrist as tightly as the left one. "And your hand? Lance, squeeze my arm, ok? Tight as you can. Both hands." The muscles of Lance's left arm flexed as he put more pressure onto Keith's forearm, but the right barely moved.

"I said both hands," Keith repeated, slightly shaking his left arm to make his point, hearing Allura in his memory saying that this might happen, that Lance may lose function in some of his limbs.

"I am!" Lance replied, the effort he was making evident in his voice, his fingers curled uselessly around Keith.

"No," Keith whispered in protest. He knew, of course he'd known for a while now that the pressure in Lance's head was getting worse. The dizziness, the nosebleed, all of it, but he'd kept him going because there was just nothing else to be done. But now? His whole right side was almost paralyzed after that last fall. Something had broken after they'd clashed heads.

"That's it, then," Lance said, defeated, bowing over their hands, Keith supporting his entire weight.

"No," Keith repeated, louder. "You're not giving up yet."

"It's ok," Lance comforted, resigned. "Just . . . just go on ahead without me."

"Absolutely not!" Keith snapped, denial hot in his veins at the suggestion. "No!"

"I can't do it anymore, Keith," Lance said, matter-of-factly. "I'm too tired."

"Then we'll rest," Keith responded, with matching matter-of-factness. "Let's take a break. We'll move again in a while."

"It's not just that," Lance maintained, and Keith shook his head as if he could stop himself hearing it. "You need to leave me." Keith put his hands on either side of Lance's head, staring him in the face as if he could see him.

"I am not doing that," he said firmly.

"The team needs you," Lance went on. "I don't want to be responsible for both of us dying down here."

"No one's dying down here!" Keith shouted, making Lance wince. He coughed, removing his hands from Lance's face as it doubled him over, his lungs and throat burning with the ache of it.

"You're getting worse," Lance said over his hacking. "You need help, Keith, and you can get to it so much faster if you leave me here. You need to go."

"Not without you," Keith repeated when he could talk again. "You're a Paladin of Voltron every bit as much as I am."

"Am I?" Lance echoed, his voice full of self-doubt. "I've lost Blue. Maybe the reason I can't feel her anymore is because she knows I can't pilot her like this. I can't see. I can't feel my whole right side. You'll have to find a new Paladin. Someone better."

"Shut up," Keith said harshly. Lance nodded, biting his lips together. Keith bit his lips too, rage increasing the pain that was already in his chest. He didn't understand how Lance could say that kind of crap. "Don't talk like that." Lance curled into himself tightly, folding his arms and pulling his knees up. It looked unnatural and unsettling. Lance normally sprawled where ever he rested. Keith felt his throat close up watching him. He heard himself make a frustrated growling noise, and then he was moving. The same sort of energy that forced him to pace earlier was now carrying him down the trail from where Lance had given up.

As he walked, he scanned the canyon walls, removing his helmet, looking for anything that might help them. For any way he could get Lance out of here. But even if he did, then what? What would be better up there on the surface than where they were already? The castle was still gone. The healing pod that Lance needed was still out of range. There really was nothing here. They were out of options. Beyond hope.

Keith paused in the shadows, ran both of his hands through his hair, not ready to accept that there really was nothing to be done, but not coming up with any ideas either. When his boots stopped scuffing along the gravel, he picked up on a weird sound behind him. He turned toward it, knowing that it was a sound Lance was making, but it was so odd that he stood there for a few moments trying to make it register as a human noise. It wasn't crying, really, or maybe it was. Something stifled and hopeless, a sound on the brink of torture. It was fast and agonal and full, not a cry, not words, just pain. A lonely sound that pricked into Keith's mind, made the hair on his arms stand on end. People shouldn't make sounds like that. Keith wanted it to stop.

"Lance, hey," he started as he returned, ready to do anything if Lance would just not make that noise anymore, but Lance had heard him coming and was trying to get a handle on himself. He scrubbed his arm across his face, breathing fast and shallow, resting on his hands and knees as he struggled to get himself upright without much control of his right side. He couldn't quite manage it. His shattered balance, fatigue, and weakness kept tipping him to the side, landing him hard on his shoulder and hip. There was fresh blood on his upper lip from his nose. Keith placed firm hands on his shoulders to still him, hating that there was nothing he could do to help him, frustrated at the damage he was seeing, at what Lance had become. "Just hold still, all right? You're going to hurt yourself." Or maybe that this was who Lance was in secret, when no one was with him.

"Keith," Lance breathed, sounding oddly relieved, sounding like a person again instead of whatever animal had been possessing him a minute ago. "I thought you left me."

Keith didn't think he could hurt any more than he already was, but this accusation stung him deep. He'd just finished telling Lance that he wasn't going to desert him. How could he doubt it, so quickly?

"Don't be stupid," Keith admonished fiercely. "I already told you I'm not doing that. And if you didn't want me to, then why tell me to go?" Keith began tugging on Lance as he spoke, not to get him to his feet this time, just to pull him over to the curve of the canyon wall so they could rest against it. They were in for a long, cold night, might as well try to find somewhere as comfortable as possible.

"Because it's the best plan," Lance mumbled as they half crawled toward the side. "I'm not worth it."

"You sound like you actually believe that," Keith replied, surprised. Where was the Lance who thought they were rivals? The Lance who stated simply but loudly that he was a ninja? That he was cool? Where was that guy? That annoying, persistent psycho? And why did Keith suddenly miss him?

Lance didn't respond as Keith helped prop him up against the soft dirt at the base of the wall, not even questioning what they were doing or why Keith was pushing him into position against the soil. The place where dust rolled down and settled, but did not pack. Keith thought about digging it out a bit, making a little foxhole for them to try and preserve some warmth, but remembered the last time he'd disturbed the delicate balance of the canyon and changed his mind. He allowed himself to drop next to his teammate and then allowed himself to unashamedly stare at him. It wasn't like he would know. He kept his eyes closed, his body still curled, the blood on his face flaking off in places. There was a paleness under the natural tone of his skin that gave him a ghostly, unhealthy, and unsettling appearance in the dark. There were bruises under his eyes.

"Lance?" Keith asked, disturbed at Lance's stillness, how he looked so close to death. "Stay awake."

"Ok," Lance acquiesced, sleepily, shifting closer to Keith without realizing it.

"Lance, I'm serious," Keith returned, though he could feel it too. Now that they weren't moving, just as before, his body felt weighted. He rested his aching head against the soil of the canyon, breathing in the earthy smell of it, so familiar. "Stay with me." He reached over to shake Lance's shoulder, which caused him to startle, then groan.

"Don't," Lance slurred. "Hurts."

"I know, but I need you to stay awake."

"I am." But he wasn't. He was slipping away, and for a second Keith understood how Lance could make that horrible sound. The thought of him sleeping, of never waking, gripped Keith's heart tight with ineffable fear and desperation. He didn't want Lance to leave him.

"Come on, sit up." Keith grabbed Lance's wrists and pulled him upright until they were both sitting next to each other in the cold, unwilling to let him go. Lance clumsily folded his arms around his knees, then leaned his head against Keith's shoulder. He tensed, but didn't move away.

"We're getting out of here," he promised, trying to fill the empty words with some kind of certainty.

"It's cold," Lance said again, and Keith licked his lips, clearing his throat. He felt so trapped here, so helpless. He wanted to stand up, toss Lance over his shoulder, and keep on down the path. And at the same time, he wanted to lie down, curl up, and sleep. Lance brought his arm up so he could rest his palm against the back of his head, tucking his chin to his chest and looking wretched.

"They're coming for us," Keith repeated, trying to pull the truth of it into existence with just words. "Just hang on."

Lance's weight against him increased slowly as the darkness deepened. The chill set into Keith's muscles; Lance was already shivering. Keith leaned back as Lance leaned in until somehow he sat reclined against the wall with Lance's head on his chest. He kept his teeth clenched to stop their chattering until his jaw ached and his head throbbed. At one point, he noticed that when he coughed, Lance didn't move. He pulled his arm out from under him so he could shake him awake again, but this time Lance didn't respond. Keith held his breath, then let it out in relief when he'd confirmed that Lance was still breathing too. Keith stared at the blackness high above him and started counting Lance's breaths.

It was hard to tell whether Lance was sleeping and waking or if he slipped in and out of consciousness. At the same time, Keith couldn't tell if he was drifting off either. Sometimes Lance's right hand would spasm. Keith, cold and worried, shifted them around until he was sort of cradling his teammate, keeping a close eye on his face, gripping his right wrist tightly to keep it controlled. Every so often, Lance would whimper and begin to struggle in Keith's arms, completely disoriented, so he'd tighten his hold, curling over Lance protectively. Each time, Lance would cry for help in these moments, obviously waking with no idea where he was or what was going on, confused and hurting.

"I've got you," Keith would assure him, turning his head when Lance's struggling would set off another nosebleed. "You're going to be all right."

"Keith?" Lance would question, at least at the beginning. "What happened?"

"You've been hurt," Keith would answer gently, incessantly, repeating the same phrases over and over. Sometimes every few minutes, sometimes with an hour in between. "Help is coming."

"It's so dark."

"Yeah," Keith would agree. "It is."

Once, when Lance woke up, he actually remembered what was happening. This instance actually bothered Keith more than when Lance would just lie still in trusting ignorance. It meant he couldn't lie.

"Keith," Lance said, jerking into consciousness this time, right hand flailing out of control. "Keith!"

"Right here," Keith answered, pulling Lance's wrist tight against his chest to keep Lance from hitting either of them in the face accidentally.

"Don't leave, ok? Not until after?" Keith hadn't thought it possible to get colder, but what Lance said chilled him through to his soul.

"I'm not leaving. I'm staying with you."

"Until I'm gone, right?"

Keith bit his tongue, his lips pursing together as he realized what Lance was saying.

"You're not going to die down here, Lance."

"It's ok," Lance said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"It's NOT ok. I came down here to save you, and that's what I'm going to do."

"You'll be better off without me." Keith's hand clenched around Lance's wrist.

"That's stupid," Keith quipped, unsure what to do with what Lance was saying. How could he really think that? Or did he really think that? He wasn't certain who was talking to him right here. It was so unlike the Lance he was used to that he doubted both versions now. "And you are not going to die. The team needs you." At least, he hoped not. But it was getting easier to hold Lance still now. His strength was gone. He couldn't stay conscious, no matter what Keith did to him to try and keep him that way. He'd been ranting about rain not ten minutes before this conversation, pleading with someone unknown in Spanish before that. If the castle didn't return for them soon, Keith was beginning to fear that it would be too late for Lance. It might be already if he had truly given up, if he'd reconciled himself to dying.

"Blue's gone," Lance said sorrowfully, turning his head away from Keith. "She knows I'm not meant to be a Paladin."

"But you are," Keith heard himself say the thought out loud. Lance's eyebrows drew together, but there was no other acknowledgement that he was listening. "You were the first. There would be no Voltron without you."

"Keith, you don't have to," Lance muttered.

"No, shut up. I shouldn't have to, that's right, but you're lying to yourself so be quiet and listen. You are Blue's true Paladin, you got me? I was living out there in that desert for months, circling around that cave for hours on end. I did tracings of those damn carvings. I spent days and days out there trying to figure out what it all meant. Then you waltz in, put one finger on the wall, and suddenly the whole place lights up like Las Vegas. Because she recognized you, immediately. She was waiting for you. If you weren't there, she'd have never woken up. Coran and Allura wouldn't either, and who knows, maybe Earth would now be just another planet under Zarkon. I don't know why you would doubt yourself, that makes no sense. Just remember that none of us would be here without you. We need you."

"Keith," Lance whispered, his voice so far gone Keith wondered how much he'd actually heard of what he'd just said.

"You're Blue's Paladin," he said again, fiercely. "She chose you and waited for you. She's waiting for you right now under a pile of rocks. She's all alone out there. So if you can't fight for your own life then think about that for a minute. She needs you to get her out of here. Are you just going to leave her?"

"No," Lance said, faintly.

"Don't forget it," Keith repeated, savagely.

But then Lance went limp in his arms again, and Keith had to concentrate hard to figure out if he was still breathing. He was. Keith leaned his head back against the dirt, staring up into the dark, worked up and exhausted at the same time, straining his eyes to see a shooting star, waiting for a wormhole to open overhead and the castle to appear in the nick of time, trying to stretch this wish across the cosmos to draw them back.

"Blue," Lance murmured, not waking. Keith twisted his head to look at him, then returned to scanning the sky, trying to reach out to his own lion, who was still out of range. Where had they gone? Maybe they'd been taken, or worse, destroyed.

Far off down the canyon, a sudden rumbling echoed. A landslide. Keith barely moved. They were so common down here. This one seemed far enough away that he could ignore it. He wasn't sure what he would do if one happened where they rested. He didn't think he had the strength in him to carry Lance again. They would have to just sit tight, hope for the best, even though everything about that course of action grated against Keith's instinct. He did not do things this way. He didn't just sit tight or wait. Which was exactly why he was down here in this situation, watching his teammate's life fading in his lap as he sat completely helpless to stop it.

The night stretched on. The sky remained dark. Keith felt stuck in a time loop where the same things rotated incessantly. He would close his eyes a few moments. Lance's uncomfortable stirring would wake him. He would do what he could for him, murmur reassurances, answer the same questions about dark and cold and Blue. Then try to pinpoint the echoing booms of rockslides elsewhere in the canyon. The ones that seemed to come at regular intervals. Keith stared back the way they'd come, wondering what had set off this string of cave ins. Why were there so many? Why did it sound like they were coming closer?

"What's that?" Lance asked, jerking awake, confused.

"It's thunder," Keith lied. "A storm's coming."

Lance didn't answer. He didn't wake again, if he'd actually been awake to begin with. His breathing shallowed and slowed. His body lay limp and lifeless in Keith's lap. Keith's own extremities felt numb in the cold. Another slide, even closer this time. Keith felt reality come apart at the seams as he sat there. His body felt detached from him; nothing felt real and yet everything hurt at the same time. Lance hadn't moved for a long time now. He no longer muttered in his sleep or cried out. He didn't respond when Keith spoke to him or shook him. It became more and more clear that he probably wasn't going to wake up again. All that they'd gone through, and Keith had failed him anyway.

The rumblings of rock slides were closer, louder, pounding in rhythm. Keith could feel the canyon trembling underneath him, then into him as fear sizzled into his half-frozen bloodstream. It was undeniable now. The slides were getting frighteningly close. What should he do? Small rocks and rivers of dirt began rolling down on either side of him as the slides built up on themselves, a domino effect that was traveling down the fall line, coming for them.

"I'm staying with you, Lance," Keith promised, coughing as the dust kicked up around them. He could sort of see it now, the dust cloud that was barreling down the canyon toward them. But this time, he couldn't heave Lance onto his shoulders. Survival instinct told him to get up and run, try to scramble up the side, get to higher ground, move out of the way. But he knew he couldn't. He resisted the urge. There was no where he could go. The sides of the canyon where he sat with Lance were shifting. Rocks were already breaking loose, banging their way down. Keith maneuvered Lance to the ground, pushing him into a fetal position. Now he couldn't see; he closed his eyes tightly against the fine grains of dirt that whipped all around him. There was nothing but crashing, huge noises of doom.

"We're going to be ok," Keith screamed stupidly at his unconscious companion over the noise. He didn't know why he did it. It all seemed so pointless. But he curled over Lance, covering his head with his shoulders and back, bracing himself in a coil over him, tightening up, waiting for the inevitable. A rock bashed into his lower back, not big enough to break bones, but large enough that he bit his lip at the unexpected pain. And more were sure to follow. He bent his head over Lance's head, waiting for it to be over.

He felt the shadow of something huge moving over top of him, felt its weight hanging in the air above him. He grabbed on to Lance, as tight as he could, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting for whatever was coming to drop and crush them both. It'll be over soon, he told himself, told his racing heart and panicking brain. Any second now they would be buried beneath tons of rocks and dirt. The air split above him, billows of grit pressing into his back, the aura of what was coming. The ground all around them broke apart with the force of the collapse, and Keith grabbed on to Lance to make sure they weren't separated in these last seconds. Currents of wind ricocheted all around them, sharp and impossibly loud. Keith clutched at Lance as the world disappeared, the only real thing left that he cared about. There was a crashing, then a whirring. Keith's equilibrium shattered, he felt as though he were falling into the sky, and at last, his mind shut down and there was nothing but calm blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Keith was surprised when he opened his eyes. He'd been prepared for the end, so he was confused that he was awake.

"Lance?" He called, trying to orient himself. He was lying on something hard. It was still dark, but not the complete darkness of the canyon bottom. There were lights here, artificial ones. From a dashboard. Keith sat up, staring at a display panel, at a pilot's seat. "Lance!" He realized that his fists were still clenched around Lance's suit; he hadn't lost his hold even when he'd lost his senses. He was oddly proud of that. He hadn't let go. "Lance, it's Blue!" Lance lie still on the cockpit floor behind his seat, unmoving, a small patch of blood under his head, dripping slowly from his nose. "Lance, she came to get you!" He realized that the slides he'd heard before the end, the ones that had sounded rhythmic, were actually Blue racing along the canyon floor, the power of her weight bringing down the cliff sides as she passed, brought to their aid by the strength of her bond with Lance. "I told you!" Keith shouted, excited, relieved.

But Lance remained unresponsive. Keith bent down to monitor his breathing, painfully slow now. "Hang in there, Lance," Keith said with all his conviction back again. They were out of the canyon, off that dead planet, saved.

"Blue," Keith spoke reverently to the lion that carried them, unsure of her capabilities when her Paladin was lying on her cockpit floor unconscious. "He's hurt, Blue. We need to get to the castle." The lights brightened slightly, as if she had heard him. There was a click, a bit of soft static, and then a most welcome voice.

"Lance?"

"We're here, Pidge," Keith responded to the voice that surrounded him, his heart swelled painfully hard with relief and worry at once. "Are you all right? Can you get us a wormhole?"

"Allura's on it. We were just on our way back to you when Blue popped up on our monitors. How'd you get her out?"

"She got herself out. Lance needed her enough."

"Where is Lance?" Keith considered the boy on the floor, not knowing how to answer that question.

"Just hurry."

A tiny spark appeared in the middle of the display, exploding outward into a perfect circle surrounding their way home. Blue gave a roar and propelled herself through while Keith huddled behind the pilot seat, Lance still in his arms. As Blue touched down, Keith gathered Lance, intent on lifting him. But he couldn't. He couldn't gather the strength; he couldn't push down the pain in his back enough to manage it. So he sat there on the cockpit floor and waited for the team to come. They were all on the run, Pidge darting ahead with Shiro and Allura close behind her. Hunk and Coran keeping pace together after them. All of them shouting names as they hurried to help. Keith braced himself for their hands.

"Help him," he kept saying around the constriction of his throat. He choked on the words, but continued to repeat them. "He won't wake up."

"We've got him, my boy," Coran encouraged, gently pulling Lance out of his hold. "Let him go, now." Pidge had taken Lance's hand, the right one, the one that flailed out of conscious control. The one that was completely lifeless now. Hunk had easily shifted Lance's full weight into his own strong and capable grasp while Coran took up position at Lance's head, holding it steady and still as they began their way to the medical room.

Keith's vision blurred as he watched them leave, feeling as though he was still connected to Lance, that somehow his strength was unraveling in the stretching distance between them. Now that he wasn't Lance's only hope, his body began to give in to his own suffering. He staggered to his feet, barely able to get himself up, and lurched unsteadily out of the lion.

The warm air of the holding bay slammed him in the chest, making him cough, ripping through him until it demanded all of his focus. He crumpled, bending to relieve the sharpness of it until he was folded on the floor with one arm pressed against his mouth.

"Keith!" Shiro called to him, alarmed, not expecting him to collapse, returning to his side. Keith waved him off, unwilling to take any attention from Lance, who needed it most. He'd be all right in a minute, as soon as he'd adjusted. He tried to push himself up using his knee as a brace, but ended up tipping into Shiro as sharp pain staked his lower back.

"Take it easy," Shiro ordered, crouching to steady him.

"What happened?" Allura's voice on his other side, her attention also drawn from following the others, her strong hand gripping his shoulder.

"Exposure?" Shiro guessed since Keith was unable to answer. "Man, Keith, how long have you been coughing like this?"

"I'll get him some water," Allura suggested, standing impossibly easily. Keith gagged as the fit came to an end, resisting the urge to lean against Shiro and close his eyes.

"That's it," Shiro encouraged. "Take some deep breaths for me." Keith glared at him. He was not ready to be taken care of yet. Lance was still in trouble, and he wasn't with him anymore. He tried again to stand up, managing it on the second attempt, forcing himself not to whimper. Shiro stood with him, dragging Keith's arm over his shoulder and slipping his Galra hand around Keith's waist. It turned out to be a good idea. Standing made Keith feel fuzzy and disoriented, but he still heard himself hiss in pain as Shiro held him firmly. That rock had done a little more damage than he'd originally thought.

"Not so fast," Shiro was saying as Keith tried to take some steps without him.

"Lance," Keith croaked, the answer to everything. It was very simple. He wasn't with him and he should be.

"He's going to be all right," Shiro answered, but not sounding as sure as Keith thought he should. "We need to take care of you right now."

"I can't leave him," Keith said, though he thought it should be unnecessary.

"Don't worry," Shiro said. "You're going in a pod right next to him."

Allura returned then with two pouches of water, one already open and ready for him. He'd needed a drink for so long now that it almost made him sick looking at it. He turned his head away from her in disgust.

"I hope you're happy," he spat savagely, feeding the growing fury, the tightness in his jaw, the pain in his back. Allura paused, water outstretched, her face confused and timid.

"Yes, of course," Allura answered, unsure. "Of course, I'm delighted to have you back safe. What do you mean?"

"Keith," Shiro warned, but Keith pretended not to hear him.

"He almost died; hell, he could still die." Allura flinched. "All because you were too scared to do what needed to be done."

"I made a hard choice," Allura defended. "I admit I didn't intend for you to be down there so long."

"You should have taken the risk. You should have come down to get us."

"Keith!" Shiro squeezed his wrist. "That's enough. We're not doing this."

"If he dies," Keith threatened, shaking. "If he loses his sight permanently."

"I won't forgive myself either," Allura beat him to it, tears on her face and in her voice. Keith swayed, steadied by Shiro, still unbelievably cold even though the castle was kept at a steady level of warmth. Allura put a hand on the side of his face, pressing a drinking straw against his lips. He jerked away from her, unwilling to let her help him now when she should have done it yesterday.

"Don't be stubborn, Keith," Shiro chided. "What good is that going to do?"

"I need to be with Lance," Keith said resolutely. He felt Shiro and Allura exchange looks as he stared sulkily at the floor. He pulled away from Shiro, slowly so he wouldn't lose his balance. But Shiro held him fast, stronger than Keith remembered. Or maybe he really was that weak.

"Let's go, then," Shiro said, giving in. Allura followed in their shadow, but didn't say anything more. The lights of the castle seemed too bright to Keith as they made their way from Blue to the medical room. He was surprised how much he needed Shiro to guide his walking, how whenever he coughed now it took all of his physical attention, so much so that he couldn't really stay standing when he started. They had to pause twice in the short distance for Keith to recover, which irritated him to the point of violence. He wanted to shrug off Shiro, run down the hallway, find out what was happening with Lance. He especially wanted Shiro to shut up as he murmured encouragement to him on their way. Like Keith was truly wounded, like he was on the verge of breaking down. Didn't they know that he'd practically carried Lance for miles down there? All alone, he'd brought him through. And they hadn't been there. They hadn't steadied him through the tunnel. They hadn't heard him when he'd begged for their help. And now he didn't really want it.

But the truth was, he was weak and dizzy. He hurt. The place on his back where the rock had slammed into him was aching unbearably and making him limp. And if Shiro weren't there, holding him up, he wouldn't be walking to where they'd taken Lance. So he seethed inwardly, shaky and annoyed, trying not to listen as Shiro complimented him on taking another step forward, trying not to growl if Allura put a hand on him.

By the time they reached the med room, Coran was entering healing codes onto Lance's pod. Keith could see him through the translucent front, his face clean but not quite restful. The healing pods were a scientific miracle, but somehow the absence of an external monitor messed with Keith. He wanted to physically see what was going on inside. He didn't like standing next to his teammates, looking in on their expressions, without having any idea where they were in their healing process, or if it was even working.

"We need another pod, Coran," Shiro greeted as they entered. He eased Keith onto one of the tables in the center of the room. Keith glared at him, but couldn't do much else in protest.

"I thought as much," Coran piped, finishing Lance's sequence and turning toward Keith. "Ah, okay. We'll need an initial scan. Do you need help removing your suit?"

"I'm fine," Keith snarled through clenched teeth. He just wanted to sit here. "I just wanted to make sure Lance was all right." He stared at the floor, feeling everyone's eyes on him. The weight of their pity, some of their guilt. His throat burned; he wanted to clear it, but he forced himself not to.

Allura put the water pouch into his hands, forcing him to either take it or drop it. He held on to it, but didn't drink, keeping his eyes carefully downcast so he wouldn't look at her.

"All right, guys," Shiro instructed, his voice full of authority. "Let's clear out. We don't all need to be here for this." Allura was the first to obey, the heels of her boots rapidly retreating from the room, giving Keith a twisted sort of satisfaction. Pidge and Hunk followed, slower, each of them passing Keith on their way out. Pidge said something to him that he didn't hear, and Hunk tearfully patted his shoulder. Shiro had apparently excluded himself from his own order; he remained at Keith's side.

"What is the status on Lance, Coran?" Shiro asked, standing with arms crossed next to Keith, understanding correctly that he was not going to persuade him to do anything until he knew that his mission was officially over, that there was nothing more that could be done.

"Our scan showed significant bleeding and swelling of the brain caused by blunt force trauma to the back of the skull and resulting in cortical blindness and cerebral edema. Also dehydration, hypothermia, and various other relatively mild contusions and abrasions. But the probability of complete recovery is slightly above fifty percent."

"Why so low?" Keith spoke up immediately.

"Because nothing is ever guaranteed when we're treating brains," Coran responded with his usual manner of never sugar coating anything, yet using a tone that made it seem as if he were trying. "These pods can do wonders, but after brain cells die, there's nothing we can do to regenerate them. We'll have to see which, if any, of Lance's cells are gone and what functions they served when he wakes up."

"He could wake up a vegetable. Is that what you're saying?" Keith translated.

"If by vegetable you mean unable to move or talk on his own, yes, that's a possibility. Unlikely, but a possibility. More likely he won't be the same Lance he was."

"What does that mean?" Keith growled, frustrated, furious that he hadn't been able to get Lance help sooner.

"It's the most common side-effect of brain injury," Coran explained, not paying any attention to the dangerous look Keith was giving him. "People who were once mild become aggressive, loud people turn quiet. Altering brains alters personality. He might not remember who any of us are. The Lance who comes out of this pod could be completely different than the one we knew."

Keith shivered. He pressed his hand to his chest, wondering if this was a process that had already started in the canyon. The Lance down there had been different, less sure, quiet. He'd forgotten English words, forgotten Keith's name sometimes. Traits that Keith definitely did not want to become permanent. He didn't always get along with Lance, but at least he was used to how he was. The thought of having to start over, well, Keith didn't actually want to think about it.

"Keep breathing, Keith," Shiro reminded him gently, putting a sure hand on Keith's shoulder, monitoring him more than he was listening to Coran, his face worried. "Is there nothing more we can do?" He asked.

"Just wait and let the pod do what it can," Coran confirmed, completely nonchalant, content to let the chips fall where they may, coming to stand in front of Keith, softening as he took in his physical state, as if he'd just now seen him for the first time. "Now let's see what we can do for you, eh?"

"I'm ok," Keith insisted, not wanting to be confined into a pod. Unconscious against his will, having no control over what was going on around him. What if there were another attack on the castle? It was foolish to be down two paladins when they didn't have to be.

"You're not," Shiro contradicted. "Or did you forget that I almost carried you in here?"

"Shiro," Keith protested again.

"No. This isn't a choice. You're not breathing right. You're in pain, and you're not ok. Can you even tell how hard you're shaking right now?"

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Coran added helpfully, not understanding Keith's reluctance. "It'll be just like falling asleep."

Keith dragged his eyes off the ground to look at Shiro, who stood with arms folded, unrelenting. And he knew he was right. There was nothing he could do for Lance, nothing but wait. And if he couldn't even walk by himself, he wouldn't be much use as a defender of the ship either. So even though he hated the idea, he had to admit that it made the most sense.

"Fine," he growled, coughing.

"Start by taking a sip of that water," Shiro commanded. Keith had forgotten he was still holding it. Forgotten he was even thirsty. Shiro's face took on a gentler expression as he watched Keith struggle to lift his hand to his mouth. "Trust me, you do want this, even though it doesn't feel that way." So Keith drank, slowly, under Shiro's guidance about how fast and how much, not really even tasting it.

Once he'd relented to being taken care of, the last bit of resistance in his body broke, the last thing keeping him together. He allowed himself to tip over onto the examining table, relinquishing the empty water pouch to Shiro, closing his eyes. His team leader startled slightly as he laid down, wondering if this were the beginning of an emergency, but he softened again as he realized what Keith was doing.

"That's it," Shiro encouraged, relief in his tone. "Let us help you."

Between the three of them, mostly Shiro and Coran with Keith doing what he could to help with the dregs of his strength, they removed his uniform and replaced it with the white healing suit. Coran scanned him, coding the pod for the required procedures, exclaiming the findings as they came up with a strange sort of enthusiasm for the macabre that was typical to his personality.

"Three missing fingernails, beginning stages of infection, gracious, boy. Dehydration and hypothermia, as expected. Cover him, Shiro, he's shaking too hard for the scanner. Let's see. Abrasion, another, one more, wow, that's a knocker, no mistake, and, what? Oh, it's hit the limit and not counting them anymore. Bones intact, that's good, oh, except this one, lowest rib of the left-hand side, there's a small crack there. What happened, Keith?"

"Falling rock," he answered, after a delay as he processed that he was actually being asked a question. He was starting to feel actual hatred toward that rock, as if it were sentient and personally out to get him.

"Must have been moving fast. It's torn your kidney. Rather amazing you walked in here knowing that. And finalizing scan. Is there anything else? Uh, yes, looks like early onset pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" Shiro spoke up, surprised. "He was down there less then forty-eight hours."

"Early onset," Coran repeated. "Mixture of no fluid intake and dust inhalation, but you're right, it usually takes longer than that. Strange. We'll set it right, though, no worries. Come on, Keith, time to get in."

Shiro slipped an arm under his shoulders to lift him into a sitting position, then stayed still as the movement dizzied him. "You really messed yourself up," Shiro told him. Keith would have rolled his eyes if he weren't already dizzy. He'd done what he had to, unlike Allura. Shiro tightened his hold momentarily in a gesture of affection. "It was stupid," he said. "But I'm glad you did it. As crazy as he is, the team wouldn't be the same without Lance. Thanks for bringing him back."

Keith didn't answer, but knew that Shiro would understand. He leaned into him as he shifted off the table, wincing as he tried to put weight on his left leg, his muscles stiff and uncooperative. Had he heard Coran say he'd ruptured his kidney? How was that even possible? He took the few painful steps into the healing pod, turned and looked at Shiro while Coran strapped him in.

"It's going to be all right," Shiro promised. "See you on the other side." There was a mechanical thud as the pod closed, then a small blast of cold air laced with an anesthetic. Keith closed his eyes and let himself drift.

Shiro was in the same place when he came to. Of course, he hadn't stood there the whole time, however many hours or days it had taken, but it was a comfort to see him. The fluid drained from the pod and the pressure locks released. Keith drunkenly exited into the teams' waiting arms. Allura was absent, but the rest of them were there. Except Lance.

"How do you feel?" Shiro asked him as he stood on his own. He tested his breath, never more grateful in his life to be able to inhale easily. There was no pain; his fingernails had regrown. It was like the canyon had never happened.

"Good," he answered, honestly.

"You look a lot better," Pidge observed, adjusting her glasses.

"I made breakfast," Hunk offered. "It's waiting for you, but you'll probably want to get dressed first. But after, it's there."

"Lance?" Keith asked, pushing through so he could see the other pod. Blue's Paladin remained just as before, a slight strain on his features under the surface, no movement, no indication that anything was actually improving.

"He'll need another day, maybe more," Shiro explained. "Brains are more delicate than kidneys, Coran said."

"How long did it take?" Keith asked, uncomfortable that time had passed without his knowledge. He wondered if this was how Lance had felt when he'd told him about his memory loss. Except it wasn't the same. He hadn't done anything except sleep in a pod. It wasn't like there were any memories there. No conversations he'd had that were now missing, just time.

"Twenty-six vargas, thirteen doboshes, and forty ticks," Coran answered, popping up from behind Hunk as if he'd been there the whole time. A little over a day. Well, what used to be a day for him when he'd lived on one planet that had a regular rotation. "And if I were you, I'd do what Hunk suggested. Get dressed and eat."

Though he was reluctant, he had no good explanation for wanting to stay where he could watch his teammate in the other pod, so he allowed Hunk to take one arm and Pidge to take the other, leading him away. He didn't need the help, but he could sense that they wanted to touch him, to feel his life under their hands, to examine physically that he was there with them again, whole and well. He understood the urge and indulged them.

"I can't believe you just jumped down there," Hunk told him as they walked. "What was it like?"

"It was awful," Keith responded, deadpan.

"The planet is intriguing," Pidge cut in. "The readings are so different from anything else we've seen before."

"It's dead," Keith answered, not really wanting to talk about it.

"I don't know," Pidge pondered out loud. "You're right; I can't detect any living organisms on the surface, but it's not the same as the other dead worlds we've seen. I can't figure it out."

"There's nothing there, Pidge," Keith told her sharply. "Rocks, dirt, and more rocks. No water. No life. Nothing!"

"Hey, chill. You don't need to yell at me. I didn't drop you down there; you did that all on your own."

Keith took a steadying breath, dedicatedly relaxing the muscles in his shoulders that had tensed up without him realizing. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Anyway, it's good to have you back," Pidge said, changing the subject, no longer touching him, but walking close to his side. "It was a little tough with you guys gone."

"The attack," Keith remembered suddenly. "What happened? How did you get away?" Why were you gone so long?

"It was hard," Hunk explained, pausing as they had reached Keith's door. "Without you and Lance, we did what we could with only three lions. Luckily, it was just the one fleet, and I think they were surprised to find us where we were. I think if we weren't so used to fighting as a five-person unit, it wouldn't have taken us so long. Shiro kept shouting orders to you and Lance, forgetting you weren't out with us."

"Then we needed to be absolutely sure we wouldn't be followed before we went back to you," Pidge added.

"But as we were getting close, Blue showed up on her own. Perfect timing, really," Hunk ended. Keith touched the button on the wall that opened the door, stepping into his room and leaving them in the hall.

"Yeah," he agreed, half-heartedly, remembering those final moments in the canyon, how he had been thinking they would be his last, clutching hard to Lance's suit so he wouldn't lose him in the earthquake. "I'll meet up with you in a bit."

Hunk raised a hand in parting as Pidge grinned at him. They weren't near as worried as he still was. They were more than ready to press forward, continue on as if the last two days were nothing, or three, if he counted the day he'd spent in the pod.

He put on his familiar clothes, wondering why everything seemed so off in his room. The light looked weird; the clothes felt wrong. He rested on the edge of his bed for a minute, examining his new fingernails, thinking about his lost day. It hadn't felt like a day. It was like time had just folded on itself from one moment to the next, presenting him fresh and whole. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. The pods really were something. The unsettled feeling smoothed out a little as he began to hope that it would be the same for Lance. Like stepping out of the pod would be the same as hitting a reset button. It would be fine. Like nothing had happened.

"Keith? Hey, man." Keith sat up, fully clothed on top of his blanket, hazy and blinking. There was a hand on his shoulder, pinning his attention. There was a scent of spice, warm and inviting. "You fell asleep."

"Hunk," Keith recognized his teammate perched on the edge of the bed, one hand on his shoulder, the other holding a bowl of something steaming.

"Here, dude, you need to eat something," Hunk invited, handing over the bowl. He put his elbows on his knees, fingertips pushed together in a restful posture as he waited for Keith to taste his offering. Keith took the bowl gratefully, taking an experimental bite. Normally, he was hesitant about food he couldn't identify, but he'd learned to accept anything from Hunk's hands without question. He was not disappointed. Whatever was in the bowl tasted remarkably like oatmeal, topped with some sort of spice that was a lovely mixture of cinnamon, anise, and ginger. He sighed around his spoon.

"Thanks," he said as he swallowed. "This is really good."

"I wish I could tell you what it was," Hunk said, shrugging. It made no difference to Keith. It was warm and soothing.

"Thanks for bringing it," he said again. "I meant to come down. I don't know what happened."

"No sweat," Hunk assured. "The healing pods are like that." Keith paused with the spoon in his mouth, trying to remember. "Lance made me swear not to tell, but after he came out that first time, I found him drooling on the sofa in the lounge, completely passed out. I carried him to his room and tucked him in bed like a toddler. Oh, but don't bring it up. Because I kind of just told you what I swore I never would, so if you could just pretend that didn't happen. Yeah."

"Well, maybe Lance did that, but Shiro," Keith protested.

"No, Shiro too," Hunk admitted, crossing his arms. "We had a moment pretty much just like this, except I think I brought him some kind of potato goulash. Trust me, healing pod exhaustion is a thing."

Keith smiled, returning to his meal, imagining Hunk in a kitchen putting together his best offerings for his newly healed teammates, bringing bowls to rooms in secret, promising to never reveal this weakness to the others, unless, perhaps, they were in the same situation. Keith felt as though he'd joined some weird fraternity, a newly initiated member.

"You can go back to sleep if you want," Hunk added, taking the emptied bowl. "Things are quiet. We're on the bridge, analyzing the planet you were stuck on."

"Why?" Keith asked around a yawn, his body warm and weighted.

"We haven't figured out the distress signal we received from there yet. Where did the inhabitants go? That scar where Lance fell wasn't from an outside blast. It looks like it came from inside, which kind of explains why it's so unsteady there and caving in. There's some strange energy there too. Pidge wants to get a sample of the soil."

"Get it off the blue lion," Keith recommended, seriously, shaking aside his sleepiness as what Hunk was saying connected with him. "Don't go back down there."

"Don't worry," Hunk placated. "You are officially off the volunteer list for that particular mission."

"No, no one should go there," Keith advised, getting heated, sitting straighter. "The planet is dead. We should focus our energy somewhere else, somewhere that can still be helped."

"Take it easy," Hunk said, calmly. "We haven't made any decisions yet. No one will go near it unless you're ready to make another jump, all right?"

Keith did not find that joke in the least bit funny, but he kept his mouth shut.

"How's Lance?" He asked, deciding to change the subject. Hunk's face fell slightly.

"The same," he said, some of his spark taken. "You haven't been asleep all that long." Keith nodded, hating that they were still waiting, feeling new respect for Hunk, who was taking it better than he was for some reason.

"Guess we should enjoy the quiet while we can," Keith said, trying to make a joke about it, but then wishing he hadn't when Hunk turned to look at him, his whole heart open and exposed on his face. They met eyes for just a second before Hunk grabbed Keith tight, thumping him on the back. Keith lifted his hands to cup Hunk's elbows, letting himself be embraced.

"Thank you so much," Hunk blubbered, not doing so well keeping his emotions down after all. "I saw him fall and I just froze. I was so relieved, and scared, when I saw you jump down after him. And you don't even like him, and I just .. . just thanks."

Keith awkwardly patted the yellow paladin. "He's one of us," was all he could think of to say. Why did everyone keep thinking that he didn't like Lance? If anything, Lance hated Keith, he was always taking jabs at him.

"That's right," Hunk agreed, letting Keith go and standing up. "Anyway, get some more rest while you can. Someone will come get you if anything interesting happens."

"Hunk," Keith called to the broad retreating back as Hunk turned to go. "Thanks."

"No problem," Hunk said absently, and the door closed behind him. For a moment, Keith relaxed again onto his bed, staring at his ceiling with his arm draped over his forehead. It was tempting to close his eyes and return to sleep, but he didn't want to do that. He pushed himself upright and headed out of his room, not toward the bridge where the others were planning the next move, but toward the medical room. He couldn't figure it out, but he just didn't like the idea of Lance being in there by himself, even if he would never remember being alone in the dark, it just felt wrong to leave him there. Keith couldn't forget the sound he'd made when he thought he was truly alone, that Keith had left him in the canyon. He didn't want to think of him ever making it again if he could prevent it.

The med room was indeed dark, the surprisingly warm kind full of the glow of sensors and equipment, the glow that stretched all through the castle. There was also an internal light in Lance's pod, giving him the strange appearance of a lab experiment, an infant in an incubator. Keith folded his arms as he stood in front of his unaware teammate, staring in at him, trying to identify any unease on his face. There was nothing.

"You're so dramatic," Keith told him, knowing he couldn't hear him but hating the quiet.

After several minutes of careful discernment, Keith sat down on the steps in front of the pod, propping himself on his thighs and resting his chin in his hands, silent, just waiting. He thought about going to the bridge, talking everyone out of the plan to return to that planet. They wouldn't head down there without him, would they? There just was no point to that, there was absolutely nothing but danger there. It was so easy to get trapped on the surface, or even worse, under it. He couldn't see what they could learn there that would be of any benefit to their overall mission. So what if the scar had come from within the planet instead of being burned into it from an outside source? Hadn't they already seen weird stuff like that on other planets? There was one that shed its whole outer layer into acid, so why was this any stranger and worthier of investigation? Hadn't they already learned enough to know to just leave?

Keith leaned back on his elbow, curling one leg underneath him and stretching out the other. He leaned further backward to gaze again at Lance, completely unchanged in the pod. He stretched both legs in front of him, feeling impatient and uncomfortable. When was he going to wake up? Wasn't it taking too long? Should they be worried that he actually might not wake up at all? Keith laid his head on his arm, draped over the top step, running the fingers of his other hand back and forth along the smooth ridge of the next stair down tracing patterns that had no conscious meaning. His eyes closed.

"Keith?" He sat up quickly, groaning a bit as he realized his whole side had gone numb from staying in one position too long. He'd fallen asleep again? "You should be resting."

"I am," he shot back, groggy, shaking his hand as it began tingling, banging his heel on the floor to encourage blood flow to return to his extremities, annoyed that he kept dozing off every time he held still for a minute.

"I meant in your bed. You need some time to recover." Keith swallowed, turning away from Allura as she came closer. He'd woken up enough to remember that he was still angry with her.

"I did," he said stubbornly, gesturing behind him to the pod where he'd already lost an entire day.

"Healed isn't the same as recovered. The pods accelerate the natural healing process dramatically, which can leave the body quite exhausted. You'll need to rest to recover properly."

"Fascinating," Keith muttered, rotating his shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you. When you weren't in your room, I thought you might come here. May I sit with you?"

"It's your ship," Keith told her, noncommittedly. She ignored his tone and settled on the steps right next to him, shoulders touching. Her hair was pulled back, ready for battle. He turned his face away from her, wishing his limbs were back to normal enough so he could stand up and leave without walking like a broken marionette. He massaged his palm, leaving the silence as awkward as possible.

"Keith, I am sorry," Allura apologized in a burst of regret. "The plan to pick you up from that planet was a bad one. I should have listened to you, especially after we learned what state Lance was in."

Keith kept quiet, letting her punish herself more than anything he could have said.

"It just felt like too much of a risk. The ground there, we've been studying it and it's like nothing I've ever seen. The way it behaves, as if there is no internal core to the planet at all. So unstable. I honestly thought you'd be safer coming to a rendezvous point. Of course, now I can think of half a dozen ways we could have done it better, but at the time, I really thought I was doing the right thing."

She paused, and he knew what she was waiting for. She wanted some reassurance from him, validation that given her situation, she had made the only choice. But he wasn't going to give that to her, not with Lance unconscious behind them.

"I asked too much of you," Allura went on, pricking Keith's nerves. "I hope you'll forgive me." Keith felt his voice stop up in his throat, on the verge of doing what she wanted, but not wanting it to be that easy. Not after the hell he'd been through down there, and the thought that they were planning on returning.

"Then don't go back," he said instead, viciously.

"What?" Her tone was innocent, like she truly had no idea what he meant.

"Hunk told me you were planning on going back down there to study the planet. Don't do it. You said you should have listened to me, so do it now. Let's leave."

Allura bit her lip thoughtfully, as if carefully selecting her next words. "This is a unique opportunity," she said slowly. "The soil Pidge took from the blue lion suggests that there may be a new kind of quintessence underneath the surface of the planet. There may even be another rift."

"There is nothing good on that planet," Keith said firmly.

"I know your experience down there was traumatizing, but Keith, to let this go unexplored."

"Three days ago, I asked you for a rescue mission that you denied because you thought it was too dangerous. Now I am confirming that it IS too dangerous, and you're going to ignore me again?"

"I don't think we are seeing this the same way."

"No, we're not. At all." Keith jerked to his feet, put one hand on Lance's pod, and started out of the room. He didn't want to leave, but he didn't want to talk to Allura anymore either. She remained on the steps, making no move to follow him.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Oh, I love this chapter. So Much Business going on. But I have a confession. This is as far as I've got. I fully intended on being a couple chapters ahead of my posting, but I also have 3 children, 2 jobs, and ended up having to go out of state to attend a family funeral for a lovely woman who will be missed who was also a tenant in a house I own that now has to be cleaned up and rented again. Very Time Consuming activities that you don't necessarily care about but that cut down on the writing scene. I'm going to do my best to have a juicy chapter for you next Tuesday! In the meantime, I hope you like Chapter 6.

Chapter Six

Keith walked out on Allura and right into Shiro, who gripped his shoulders in surprise.

"There you are," he said, and Keith just hung his head, waiting. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I've heard," Keith responded, sullenly. He didn't want to rest; he wanted to do something, get out of here.

"Allura must have found you," Shiro realized, but how Keith couldn't guess. He looked away, knowing that Shiro wouldn't need him to confirm. He already knew he was right. He usually was. "I'm taking it you didn't accept her apology?"

Keith started walking, not really sure where he was headed. Shiro followed, a steady presence at his side. "It wasn't much of an apology," he returned.

"She feels horrible about what happened to you," Shiro defended. "We all do, but she's taking all the blame."

"Good," Keith replied, feeling deliciously vindictive, holding on to his anger protectively.

"Look," Shiro said, his tone turning parental. He was preparing for a lecture. "I know you're worried about Lance, but being angry with Allura isn't going to help him."

"Who says I'm worried?" Keith asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"You do."

Keith stopped, staring sideways at Shiro. Who was usually right, but not this time. He was angry with Allura because she hadn't listened to him and continued to not listen to him. It had nothing to do with Lance.

"It makes sense," Shiro continued. "You're the one who brought him up out of there; it makes sense that you would feel responsible for him. But whatever happens, it's not your fault and it's not Allura's fault. Lance understood that leaving his lion was a risk. It always is."

"This isn't about Lance," Keith maintained, unsure why Shiro was coming up with that as an explanation for Keith's behavior.

"Of course," Shiro gave in, putting an easy hand on Keith's shoulder. Keith felt oddly patronized. "Come on, let's head back to your room. You still look tired."

"No," Keith said, shrugging Shiro off. "I'm going to check on Red first."

"Keith."

"I really don't want to sleep anymore."

"Fine," Shiro said. "Just try not to overdo it. No training. Join us on the bridge when you're ready."

"Ok," Keith acquiesced, shuffling off in the direction of Red's hangar. He knew she was fine, but at the moment, hers was the only company he wanted. He felt Shiro's eyes on his back as he walked away, monitoring him for weakness and stress, performing some secret diagnosis. It irked him. He sped up.

Red growled softly and companionably as he entered her area, forever patient and forever happy to see him. He also felt a bit of unease on her, but unlike with his other teammates, he understood immediately why. She had known he was in trouble, known but couldn't get to him. He'd been too far away. She felt like she'd failed him. He put a hand on her giant claw, resting his head against her.

"It's all right, girl," he told her, knowing she didn't need to hear him say the words, but wanting to say them anyway. She lowered her head, opening her mouth to invite him in. He obliged, entering the warmth of the cockpit, the soft glow of the display. He curled up on the pilot seat, leaning his head back, enjoying the warmth. Red's consciousness folded over him and he sighed, relaxed, but not completely. There was a question from the lion. She didn't understand his emotions, why there was anger there, why he wasn't at ease now that he'd been returned.

"I don't know," he told her, honestly. There was no way he could lie. "Everything's weird right now. I don't want to be anywhere or with anyone."

Red flashed the color blue all over the display, making him hide his face in his arms, curling into Red as if they could just be one entity. He didn't want to think about Lance anymore. He didn't want to admit that he couldn't stop thinking about him. How he wanted him to wake up and be as he was, how he wanted nothing to change. He wanted his space family exactly as he'd gotten used to it, even though he knew that was a silly thing to wish. They were risking their lives, beginning a war to dethrone a tyrannical regime that had been in power for millennia. It was ridiculous to think that their tiny team could do such a thing and come through completely unchanged. And yet, he still wanted it, for as long as it was possible to have.

You'll change with them, Red assured him, surprising him with the directness of her communication. It wasn't often that she did more than wrap him with her power. She didn't use words, but sometimes her projections could be translated that way. Sometimes without realizing, she continued. Sometimes with pain. To live is to change, and you are very much alive. Don't push them away out of fear of this. Develop together and you will grow closer. Resist and you will be left behind.

He knew she was right, but knowing something was true was quite a bit easier than pushing down the fear to accept it.

"How's Blue?" He asked out loud, folding his arms around his knees, enjoying that they were having a sort of conversation. They were so rare.

Resting, was the answer. Worried and resting. She wanted her paladin returned to her whole. She had saved him from being buried in the fall. She had not anticipated being taken down herself, only managing to free herself at the end because of Lance's focus on her, knowing that he was moments from death. She'd been unprepared for the power of the quintessence of the planet.

"What?" Keith interrupted the barrage of feelings and images that made up their communication. "What about the quintessence?"

What Red presented him next was too complicated for him to translate into proper words. She had not been there, though she'd sensed from the atmosphere before Keith had jumped. The soil of the planet was quintessence. It didn't contain quintessence, like every living thing in the universe, it WAS the life force. But dust, petrified, ancient, dormant.

"That doesn't make sense," Keith said, frustrated. Red projected annoyance at his youth, his tiny finite mind that couldn't wrap around the cosmos the way hers could. "Quintessence doesn't die. It just is."

He was misunderstanding her, impossibly. It was not dead, she insisted, more like contained. Wrapped in time. It had shut down Blue just by touching her, stealing her force like a parasite, preying on her weakened state caused by Lance's injury. The fall into the canyon had not done anything, as he'd expected. It had been the dust.

"So it is dangerous," Keith muttered. He thought back to the planet. How there was nothing alive there. How it crumpled into itself, hollowed out and broken. How breathing in too much of it had given him pneumonia in such a short time. "But Pidge found quintessence in the soil. She said it was like nothing she's ever seen before."

What Pidge had seen, Red did her best to answer, was Blue's essence, mixed with and animating the original quintessence of the planet. It would not register to her as belonging to Voltron, or to the blue lion specifically as it had been tainted. The soil of the planet had taken it from her, exactly as any blood-sucking life form would.

"We can't go back," Keith said quietly. "If any of the lions touch down there, the same thing will happen." Red agreed. Keith thought of the original distress call that had brought them to those coordinates in the first place. They had thought they were coming to the aid of a civilization, a planet needing liberty from the oppressive hand of the Galra. "No one ever lived there, did they? What we received was a hail from a crashed ship, wasn't it?"

Red wasn't sure. She had no way to know, but she thought that it would have been possible for life to have existed there once, maybe long ago. Technically, the entire planet was life, just frozen.

"But why does it behave that way?" Keith continued. "What happened to it?"

This question also tripped Red up. She didn't have to understand why; she hardly ever bothered with it. It just was. There was light, so also there was its absence. There was quintessence; therefore, its absence.

"But darkness doesn't _steal_ light," Keith protested, getting tired.

Does it not? Red questioned him. There was matter and void, and always, always, balance. If matter was introduced to a void, would they not seek level? The quintessence of that place was not sentient, not truly alive anymore, dormant. Active quintessence, coming into contact, would bleed into it, reanimating it, the way that a body will give of its heat to what it comes into contact with. Sometimes, that exchange will result in more heat. Others, with cooling, depending on which has the most energy. The planet was not evil, not an active parasite, but by its very nature, it could force anything living to merge with it, seeking that level. If there were enough life, enough active quintessence, like a living net that could surround the entirety of the place with energy, it might reverse it, absorbing the dormant, converting it to energy, and creating new life. But the force required to do such a thing would be beyond their ability to create.

"How did it get that way?" Keith asked again, unwilling to believe that this happened naturally. Was this what became of those planets that Zarkon pulled quintessence from? But if he were draining quintessence from a planet, that would not leave any behind to become dust. Red had no answer. She advised him not to think too much about it. He was no longer there. Rest, she told him. There was no need to fear.

"But they're planning on going back," Keith told her. "The others. They – I need to tell them this." He stood up, feeling inexplicably heavy. How was he going to make them understand this when he barely grasped it himself? But he had to try.

"Keith?" At first he thought it was Red calling his name as he hurried from her cockpit, struggling down to the hangar floor as though he were pulling weights behind him. "Keith!"

All of a sudden, he was sitting up, registering low lighting and the softness of the Altean fabric that covered his bunk. He struggled to stand, hating how this was becoming a thing, how he couldn't keep a sense of time and place.

"Take it easy; you're safe," Shiro calmed from where he sat on the side of Keith's bed. But Keith did not want to take it easy, and he wasn't sure that everyone was safe. How did he even get here? Where were the others? How much time had passed?

"What's going on?" Keith demanded, succeeding in getting to his feet, running his hands over his face.

"It's ok," Shiro said again. "This is normal. I found you asleep in Red's cockpit and thought you'd rest better here. You didn't really wake up even though I walked you over."

"I walked here?" Now he truly knew how Lance felt losing his memory. He didn't have anything other than talking with Red. He hadn't known he'd fallen asleep, there was no recollection of Shiro coming to Red to get him. There was nothing except the exchange about the quintessence. It was unsettling.

"Yeah, except I really don't think you were awake," Shiro answered. "But you were thrashing just now; what happened? You ok?"

"Yes," Keith said before really thinking about what he was saying. "I mean, no. Where is everyone?"

"Coran's on the bridge, monitoring Allura, Pidge, and Hunk."

"Monitoring?" Keith repeated, getting worried and furious at the same time. "They didn't?"

"We weren't going to go down there," Shiro explained, holding up his hands. "But then the Galra showed up again and landed. Allura and Pidge really wanted to try and see what they're doing there. I stayed to come get you because Lance is almost done with his healing cycle. Since you still need to rest up, you'll stay here with Lance and Coran and provide support while I meet up with the rest of the team on the ground."

"They took the lions?" Keith asked, internally panicking, understanding that they wouldn't remain functional if they stayed in contact with the dormant quintessence that made up the planet. Or would they? Keith was confused. How much of what he remembered talking about with Red was real? How much of that information could be trusted?

"Not all of them, just the Green lion – it weighs the least and can remain hidden the easiest. I'll be taking a pod that Pidge has installed her cloaking device for. If anything happens, Pidge will buy us the time it will take to get the other lions. If it comes to that. Most likely, they won't even know we're there unless we decide to shut the whole thing down."

"That's not good," Keith said, then said it over again, starting to pace. They'd already gone down there before he'd had a chance to tell them what he'd learned. The Green lion was already on the ground, having her quintessence drained from her while the others were spying on the Galra. They probably had no idea.

"Keith, I'm getting worried about you. Why are you so worked up about this?"

"It's not me. It's them! They need to come back, now. Coran!" He raised his voice to activate the paging system of the castle. Coran's calm face appeared on the monitor in his room. "Coran, tell the team to abort the mission. The soil on that planet is dormant quintessence that will absorb the energy from the Green lion. She won't be able to move if they don't get her off soon."

"Uh, that's not quite how quintessence works," Coran began. "You see –"

"Get them back up here, now!" Keith yelled.

"I'm patching you through," Coran half-sighed, and the screen switched to black, audio only. "Princess?"

"What is it, Coran?" Allura's voice was calm, but Keith could hear the tightness in it. She was unprepared for being disturbed right now. "Is everything all right?"

"Allura," he interjected, ignoring the way Shiro was looking at him. "Listen. Red told me that the soil of that planet absorbs quintessence. It's taking it from the Green lion, and probably you, right now. Get everyone in and get off the ground."

"The Red lion told you this?" Allura questioned, her tone infuriatingly doubtful, but Keith didn't want to get into it. He wanted them safe, far away from here. "How?"

"She just did," he said, firmly, wanting to make it clear that he wasn't crazy, or dreaming, or paranoid. There was something wrong with the planet. "Come back."

"Sorry," Coran spoke up. "But could one of you head to the med room? Lance's pod will be opening in another dobosh. I'd go myself, but-"

"We're on our way, Coran," Shiro assured, standing from Keith's bed and staring at Keith.

"But," Keith said, unsure. He wanted to be in the med room, but he needed to make sure everyone was understanding what he was saying about the dirt. He couldn't decide which was more important.

"Come on," Shiro ordered gently, nodding his head toward the door.

"Coran, please get them to come back," Keith begged as he started toward Lance, knowing already that his warning was going to go unheeded. They were down there; nothing horrible seemed to be happening. Why should they listen to him? He'd been hurt, he was tired and overreacting. That was just how he was, wasn't it? But it wasn't!

He marched angrily toward the med room, Shiro keeping pace beside him, muttering about how they would have to go rescue them as soon as Lance was settled. Something was going to go wrong. He just knew it.

But then he saw Lance in the pod, his face expressionless, eyes closed, no indication that the pod would be opening any second now, and he remembered all the other worries he'd managed to push down while he'd been talking with Red. He felt his hands clench at his sides as he tried to hold still and wait. Shiro put a comforting hand on his shoulder, not quite understanding all of what Keith was going through, but giving his support anyway.

A light blinked in the pod and the fluid drained in a rush, followed by rapid oxygen current that served the double purpose of drying off the patient and waking them up. The cover retreated and suddenly there was nothing between Keith and Lance anymore.

Lance raised a hand unsteadily toward the brightness of the lights, blinking quickly. Keith let out a breath as he realized that Lance could see again. Then he took the two steps up to the pod to automatically steady Lance, just as Pidge and Hunk had done for him when he'd exited his own pod, grounding him and assuring himself that he was ok now.

"Welcome back," Shiro said at the same time Keith said, "I got you."

"What the hell, Keith?" Lance asked, looking at Keith suspiciously, leaning away from where Keith had taken one of his elbows and slipped an arm around his waist. Because for Keith there was no longer anything like personal space between them. For some reason, it didn't even piss him off to hear Lance speak to him this way. He was just delighted that he remembered his name, that he could see him again. Slowly, he removed his hands, staying close without consciously thinking about it.

"How are you feeling?" Shiro asked. "Do you remember what happened?" Lance put a hand on his head, his face confused, trying to pinpoint the last of his memories before waking up in the pod. Keith stared at him, waiting expectantly.

"I'm great," he answered first, half-heartedly, obviously still figuring out the answer to the second question. "I remember, um, falling. Yeah, the ground just crumbled out from under me."

Keith heard himself make a sound that he hadn't been expecting to make, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh. He'd forgotten the canyon, all of it. He couldn't remember being blind, almost dying, struggling along the broken pathway, crawling through that tunnel. All of it was wiped clean for him. Part of Keith was happy those memories had been taken from Lance; they were awful, but another part felt sort of betrayed about it. He would forever be the only person who would know exactly what went on down there, how nightmarish it had been.

"Yeah, I bet it was real funny for you watching me fall," Lance spat, not understanding that Keith was not actually laughing at him. Keith felt his mouth drop open at the accusation, shocked at the venom in Lance's tone.

"We're glad you're back," Shiro told him genuinely, putting out his hand in a calming gesture and changing the subject before Keith could come up with something to say. "Hunk's brought your clothes." He gestured to the neatly folded pile on the table next to him. "And he says he left you both a meal in the kitchen."

"He left it?" Lance echoed, looking a little crestfallen that only Shiro and Keith were around. "What do you mean, both of us? Where is Hunk? Where is everyone?"

"They're on a mission," Shiro explained while Keith retrieved the clothes and stuffed them into Lance's hands, needing to do something besides stand still and chat, feeling like he had to prove somehow that he wasn't making fun of Lance, that he didn't think it was funny that he'd been hurt. "One I should actually be on too."

"Don't do that, Shiro," Keith blurted out, shifting his attention instantly, almost dropping the clothes, which Lance was looking hesitant about taking from him. "Don't go down there."

Shiro gave him a hard look as Lance snatched his jacket out of Keith's hands. "This is something I have to finish now that it's started," he told Keith, and he understood that Shiro was trying to let him down gently, that he was trying to validate his opinion even though to him it made no sense. "We've been in worse spots and pulled through. The most important thing right now is figuring out what Zarkon wants with that planet."

"Don't," Keith begged one more time, knowing it was pointless, keeping one eye on Lance as he ducked out of sight to change, monitoring him for any strange behavior that might have been brought on by his brain injury.

"Don't forget that Blue was able to move herself while she was down there," Shiro reminded him. "And we won't be down as long."

"What about Blue?" Lance cut in, a bodiless voice, but neither Shiro nor Keith were going to answer him yet.

"They need me down there," Shiro told Keith firmly. "You stay with Lance. Both of you eat and rest, you got me? We'll be back before you know it."

"Wait, you're not leaving me with him?" Lance broke in, shrugging into his jacket as he came back to stand with them, confused and agitated. Shiro smiled playfully.

"You couldn't have a better caregiver," he said, amused. Keith bristled, shaking his head savagely. Shiro nodded to him, and Keith understood that this statement was as close as he would get to telling Lance what had happened, how Keith had saved him. Keith was glad about that. If he didn't remember on his own, he didn't want anyone to tell him.

"Are you kidding me?" Lance squawked. Keith folded his arms, wondering why he'd been so worried that Lance would be different when he woke up. How could he have forgotten how obnoxious he was when he was awake and undamaged?

"Keep your helmet visors closed," Keith advised, seriously. "Don't breathe the dust."

Shiro reached out to clasp his hand, his face openly grateful that Keith was no longer fighting him about the importance of the mission. Keith sighed, hating that he was going to have to support this decision, how no one was taking him seriously enough to heed his warnings about it.

"Roger that," Shiro agreed before heading out.

"And come back the second you figure out what they're doing. Don't stay any longer than you have to!" Keith yelled after him.

"What was that all about?" Lance asked, turning his head back and forth between Keith and Shiro. Keith took another steadying breath.

"Just come on," he said curtly, tugging on Lance's jacket sleeve to pull him forward. At first, Lance dug his heels in, resisting Keith, but gave in with a shrug, following him to the kitchen.

In true Hunk fashion, they found a tray set out for them, covered in a cloth with a little note that probably explained what he'd prepared and how they should eat it. And in true teenaged boy fashion, they both completely ignored it, though Keith noticed that Lance put the note carefully in his pocket with one hand even as he was picking up a spoon with the other.

"I can't believe," Lance began after the first swallow. "That they went on a mission."

Keith stared at his bowl, wondering if he would ever get back into a normal rhythm of life-sustaining activity, normal sleep habits, normal hunger patterns. Now that he was standing here, looking at the food, his stomach woke up enough to let him know it would be a good idea to eat, but before that, he couldn't remember if he'd been hungry. Or maybe he'd just ignored it?

"Without us," Lance pointed out, eating a little faster now. Keith tasted the unidentifiable mixture, finding it satisfying in a way he couldn't place. There was something starchy there; Hunk was obviously going for comfort food lately. Keith didn't mind.

"Doesn't that bother you?" Lance actually poked him with the handle of his spoon. "Are you even listening?"

"We don't all have to be on every single mission," Keith countered. "You just woke up; you're in no shape to fight the Galra right now."

Lance bristled at the comment, his face growing red. Then his countenance calmed into curiosity, into study as he watched Keith eat, trying to make sense of where the world had shifted while he'd been gone.

"Why aren't you with them?" He pressed. "What have you been doing that Hunk left you food too?"

Keith wasn't sure why he was surprised that Lance had deducted something was up so quickly, but he still didn't have a response for this that didn't involve a lengthy conversation about their time in the canyon that he just didn't want to get into.

"Don't worry about it," he answered lamely. Lance narrowed his eyes, but let it go long enough for them to finish eating. "And I am going as soon as I get you settled."

Lance's eyes were all the way to just slits now, his chest sort of puffed as he breathed in silent fury. "Settled?" He said it like a challenge. Keith didn't take the bait.

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly. "Finish your food and then I'm taking you to your room. You need sleep. Like actual rest." Keith had to hide a smile in his bowl as he watched Lance's nostrils flare. It was kind of fun to get him worked up. He'd forgotten that too.

"Hell no!" Lance burst out. "If you're going, I'm going."

Keith slammed his bowl on the table, standing up, all his amusement vanished in one worried instant. Lance looked momentarily frightened, but tightened his jaw in determination against whatever Keith was about to do to him.

"No way," Keith said, vehemently. "You almost died down there. You're staying here with Coran."

"You're not the boss of me," Lance finished childishly, setting his own bowl down with a finality that was probably supposed to change Keith's mind. It didn't in the least. "I'm going."

"No, you're not," Keith challenged, feeling his hands clench up.

Lance stood up quickly, as if to square off with Keith, but he faltered slightly as he straightened. Not much, not like he did when he was in the canyon, but Keith was watching him too closely for just this sort of thing to miss it. Almost on instinct, Keith grabbed Lance's elbow to steady him, studying him intently as his eyes lost focus for a second. Coran had said there was almost a fifty percent chance he wouldn't be completely whole when he came out of the pod.

"What are you doing?" Lance accused as he pulled out of Keith's grip, his balance returned.

"Helping you," Keith answered honestly, unnerved.

"I don't need your help," Lance returned sharply. "Now leave me alone."

Keith knew he shouldn't let it bother him that Lance was behaving this way, but that didn't stop him from standing in shock as he watched Lance head out of the kitchen. When he realized that Lance was likely on his way out of the castle, he hurried after him.

"Lance, wait!" he called, jogging to catch him, relieved when Lance allowed him to fall into step beside him.

"Don't try to talk me out of it," Lance ordered.

"Let's check in with Coran first," Keith suggested. "Figure out what's going on."

"What do you think I was doing?" Lance huffed. "Honestly."

Keith nodded to himself, strategizing how to keep Lance in the castle, how to convince the ones already on the ground to return, what he could say to persuade them. He hadn't really figured it out when they stepped onto the bridge where Coran had three monitors up. One was a chart of the ground, monitoring the shifts of the surface, keeping tabs on the stability of the earth beneath the team's feet. The other was a map of where they were in this solar system, a chart of the other planets and stars, their position a blinking green dot, every so often radiating outward in a scan for other moving objects around them. The third was a visual recording of sound waves, three distinct lines for each of the team members on the ground. Coran stood with his back to them, keeping a close eye on the first two charts, alert to any dangers. Shiro stood before the last, arms crossed, shoulders straight. Keith slumped a little in relief that Shiro had remained in the castle after all.

Keith became aware of Shiro just as Coran took notice of Lance. At first, he looked back quickly to register them as he heard them enter, then he did a double take to see Lance up and dressed. In another second, he'd momentarily abandoned his post to rush the blue paladin, grabbing him tight with an excited exclamation of, "Thank the ancients!" before dragging Lance back over to the monitors so he could pay attention to all of it at the same time. Shiro looked over his shoulder to nod at Keith before he too went back to his monitor. Keith silently came to his side.

"Keith and Lance are here," Shiro informed the other three.

"Lance?" Hunk gushed. "Lance, buddy, you good?"

"Fine," Lance answered, smiling from where Coran still had his hand protectively around his wrist. "You need me down there?"

"Not at present," Allura answered, calmly, but still with tension in her voice. "I'm afraid we're a bit trapped until the Galra leave here if we don't want to start a battle. Having one of you come down would undoubtedly draw more attention than we want. We aren't quite finished either." That explained why Shiro was still here.

"What's happening?" Keith asked, worried.

"It's hard to tell," Allura continued. Keith could practically hear her squint. "There's just the one warship, a fighter, landed where we'd originally intended to pick you up. We've been forced to retreat into the canyon a bit to avoid being seen." Keith willed his breathing to remain steady. They couldn't be that far into the canyon. Not far enough to be in too much danger.

"Pidge has been collecting samples and running scans on the soil," Shiro added. "Apparently it changes depending on what it comes into contact with."

Seeking level, Keith thought, but didn't have time to explain what he'd learned from Red.

"And apparently Zarkon's witch is doing much the same thing," Allura went on. "She's here with a sizable guard. It looks as though she's trying to manipulate the soil, except she seems to have something specific in mind. Whatever it is, it looks as though she's having little success."

"Haggar is there?" Shiro confirmed, his voice tinged with something dark, the resurgence of a repressed memory. "I thought you said there were only soldiers?"

"There were; she only recently joined them outside," Allura continued. "We just can't make out any reason why."

"We should take them out," Keith suggested, feeling jittery, not enjoying standing calmly on the bridge like this. "You guys take cover, and the three of us will just destroy the whole place." He noticed Lance's look as he spoke, a confused expression combined with something like patient endurance. He knew what he was thinking – that Keith's first reaction was always to rush in, guns blazing. But in this case, he really didn't think it was such a bad idea.

"We can't do that," Pidge returned the frustrating denial. Keith folded his arms, wondering if all his plans were going to be shot down for the rest of eternity. "They're between us and the lion. We'd have to somehow climb up and go around the back, which, as you know, isn't really possible."

"Hey, who's that?" Hunk asked. "Looks like they're bringing out a hostage."

"Maybe one of the original inhabitants here?" Pidge guessed.

"No, I don't think so," Allura countered. "He's obviously Galra."

"So not a hostage?" Shiro asked with an edge to his voice, and Keith noticed his fingers drumming along his arm. He was getting antsy too.

"Maybe not, but he's not part of Haggar's guard either," Pidge answered, thinking out loud as she narrated. "They've got him on the ground with all their weapons on him. Haggar is talking to him. It looks like they want him to do something, but he's shaking his head. She's furious."

"I think you should get out of there," Keith repeated, tapping his foot without realizing it, forgetting that they didn't really have a safe escape route while Haggar was blocking their way.

"He keeps looking at the green lion," Pidge continued, her voice inquisitive and the tiniest bit anxious.

"She's cloaked, though, isn't she?" Shiro checked, his hands coming to his sides. Keith could feel him coiling inside, preparing for something. He could feel it too. Something very wrong. Something he wouldn't be able to prevent. Lance's shadow entered the corner of his vision as he came to stand with them, watching their teammate's words rise and fall on the waves of the monitor.

"Of course," Pidge assured, "but he keeps looking that way. Get down!"

The spike of the wave shot the intensity of Pidge's command through the bridge, making Lance actually duck just as instructed. Coran looked over, then back to his own monitors. Shiro took a step forward. Keith felt as though he was at breaking point for holding still, for waiting. Just standing here listening to what was going on, depending on words to give them a picture of the situation, was almost physically painful.

"Do you think he saw us?" Hunk asked.

"Be on guard, there," Coran broke in. "I'm picking up some activity on the surface of the planet."

"Rock slide?" Keith asked uneasily.

"No, it looks like ripples through the ground."

"Ripples?" Lance repeated. "What does that even mean? What sort of planet is this?"

"Where'd he go?" Came Hunk's whispered question, completely spooked. "Guys? The Galra on the ground just disappeared?" The muted shots of blasters came through faintly over the radios. The Galra were shooting at something.

"Is there any way you can get to the lion?" Shiro said urgently. "I think it's time to abort."

But just as the words left his mouth, there was a shout from Allura and Coran. Keith turned from the jolted wavelength to Coran's monitor of the planet, where an entire section of ground was giving way.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Allura!" Shiro called, trying to maintain vocal connection with the team.

"Did they just fall?" Lance yelled the question, his body as tensed as a bowstring. Keith grabbed at Coran to shift him over so he could look at the monitor himself. They were supposed to be at the mouth of the canyon; how had the ground given way there? It was supposed to be stable!

"I'm here," Allura assured, stopping everyone in their tracks on the bridge, pausing the intensity, the sense of emergency, but not lessoning it.

"Are you all right?" Shiro asked, practically leaning on the monitor that showed the sound waves. "Everyone ok?"

"I think so. The ground just, well, swallowed us. We didn't drop very far. Pidge? Hunk?"

"We're here," Pidge confirmed, sounding unsure.

"We need to get down there," Keith said urgently, looking intently at Shiro. "Let's take a ship and go, now. They can't stay there."

"Yeah," Lance agreed.

"Coran?" Shiro said, as though he were requesting permission. Coran looked at Lance, hard, then at Keith, before nodding.

"Bring them back," he said.

"Allura? We're coming to get you. Don't move," Shiro ordered even as he was moving toward the hangar door. Keith grabbed Lance by the hood of his jacket to stop him from going to Blue.

"Not in the lions," he maintained stubbornly. "We're taking a ship."

"Why wouldn't we use the lions?" Lance asked, half innocent and half irritated.

"Keith," Shiro began, but Keith interrupted before he could say anything.

"Not in the lions," he said again. "Nothing that is powered by quintessence goes on that planet."

"But how are we going to destroy the Galra ship if we don't take lions?" Lance asked him, twisting out of Keith's grip on his jacket.

"We're getting the rest of the team and then getting out of here," Keith said. "It's too dangerous."

"But," Lance looked confused, not understanding how he could wake up in a world where Keith would be suggesting an extraction mission over a battle.

"We'll take a ship," Shiro decided. "Now let's stop wasting time." They ran together toward the hangar, Keith slowing as he realized Lance wasn't keeping up, that he'd put a hand out in front of him as he moved.

"You should stay here," Keith told him, the worry over Lance that he'd hoped to put behind him resurfacing all at once. "I don't think you're up for this."

"Shut up." And just like that, Lance sprinted forward, almost running into Shiro as he sped down the castle hall. It made Keith feel unbalanced to watch him. Was there something wrong, or wasn't there? He didn't have time to figure it out. The three of them pulled on clean suits and piled into a ship; Keith jumping into the pilot's seat before thinking too much about it. It hadn't been all that long ago where he'd wanted desperately to get off that planet, and now it was all he could think about to get back down there.

"Cloaking is on," Shiro confirmed from where he sat next to Keith. "But take it easy when you land. I don't know what the weight of the ship will do to the terrain there. We could end up in a hole too, or we could bury the rest of the team."

"Got it," Keith responded, tuning out whatever Lance was complaining about from where he sat in the back with the weapons and supplies, wishing he'd been more forceful in not letting him onto the ship in the first place. He adjusted the angle of entry into the planet's atmosphere, monitoring the temperature, taking a moment to accustom himself from the void of space to the sunlit surface. The Galra ship was still there, though it appeared that some of Haggar's guard had also dropped into a cave in. Haggar remained near the ship, a handful of soldiers surrounding her with their weapons drawn. Why were they guarding her that way? The rest were gathered near the edge of the new hole, working out a solution for getting their comrades to the surface again. Keith wondered if it were possible for them to worry the same way he was worried. If they could feel a sense of brotherhood for their companions. He didn't think about it long.

"Watch it, Keith," Lance ordered through the intercom as Keith skimmed the ground, intent on getting as close to Allura and the others as possible without putting them in unnecessary danger.

"Don't worry," Keith tossed out casually, contrary to his emotions. "I could land us on a soap bubble. You're the one who -"

"That's enough," Shiro interrupted, unwilling to put up with their verbal jostling. "Let's focus here."

Keith disguised his shrug in maneuvering the ship, turning it around a dozen feet above the surface so that it faced the mouth of the canyon. He felt sweat slide down his cheek as he gingerly set the vehicle down onto the soil, the muscles in his arms tensed as much as possible, keeping tight control for a soft landing. If he'd touched down in a puddle of water, there wouldn't have been a splash.

Still, they all paused as Keith cut the power, knowing that as long as they stayed right where they were, they were invisible to the Galra, that they were relatively safe. It took a few deep steadying breaths to consciously leave that place, despite their anxiety over getting their teammates up and out of harm's way too. Shiro and Keith ducked low after hopping out the ship doors, rushing with knees bent around to the back where Lance was opening the rear bay, where they had some cover.

Keith stopped short when he saw Lance leaning against the opening, remembering the exhaustion of the healing pod. Lance hadn't had any recovery time from that before joining the mission. He looked ready to drop before they'd even started.

"Stay here," Keith blurted at him, again, physically putting a hand on his chest to restrain him from stepping down.

"Would you stop that?" Lance retorted irritably, pushing him away. "What is your problem?"

The truth, that Keith would never admit out loud, was that his entire psyche was resisting the idea of Lance on this soil again, of returning to the canyon where Lance could be in trouble, where he would be responsible for his life again. He couldn't go there, not so soon, not with the suspicions he had that Lance wasn't quite right yet. He fumbled for a better answer.

"Actually, I agree," Shiro said, saving him. Lance turned wide hurt eyes to him. "We need someone to guard the ship and cover us as we're out there in the open. You're our sharpshooter; you're the best choice." Some of the pain softened in Lance's face, replaced with a dedicated loyalty. He pulled his bayard from his belt where it manifested into the familiar rifle. He nodded to Shiro.

"All right," he acquiesced to staying behind. "I'll cover you."

"Here's the plan," Shiro began, and they unconsciously leaned their heads closer to him to listen. "Keith and I will secure ourselves to the ship on individual lines and use three more to get the others out while Lance keeps watch. I think we should go one at a time, Pidge, Allura, then Hunk. Once we've got everyone, we take the ship past the Green lion, drop off Pidge and cover her until she's in the cockpit. Then we all head back to the castle and leave. The Galra should be too busy with whatever they're doing over there to even see us."

"Got it," Lance said, nodding, breaking the circle. They proceeded to unhook the various tools they would need for orchestrating the rescue. The Altean versions of ropes were more like Pidge's bayard than actual braided lengths, using some sort of tangible synthetic energy than actual material, giving them the benefit of not having to worry if the length was too short, at least up to 600 yards, they hadn't tested it farther, or if a knot would hold. One end secured to a port within the bay, the other to the belt of their paladin uniform. Keith understood well that Altean technology was far more advanced than anything they had on Earth, but he still felt the need to test the strength of the system by leaning his weight as much as possible away from the line. Next to him, Shiro instinctively did the same thing. His eyes doubted that such a tiny bit of light would be enough to keep him from falling, but the lack of give as he tried to stretch it reminded him that it was probably strong enough to lift his lion if necessary.

"Do not leave the ship unless you're wearing one of these," Keith told Lance seriously, looking him straight in the eye. Lance's mouth twisted in amusement and annoyance at Keith's seriousness. "Actually, don't leave the ship anyway. Just stay."

"Yes, mother," Lance replied, awkwardly.

"And leave your visor down," Keith cautioned him. "The oxygen here isn't as breathable as you think." Lance gave him a curious look, as if he wanted to ask him something, but Shiro pulled him away with a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll be quick as we can," Shiro said to Lance before taking off toward the hole where Allura had fallen with Pidge and Hunk, leaving lengths of softly glowing rope behind him. The cave in had been minor, like in those cartoons where someone with a saw cuts a perfect circle out of a floor around a character. As Keith carefully stepped up to the edge, he guessed that they were only twenty feet, maybe less, below the surface. Allura's face was turned upward expectantly while Pidge crouched against the side, arms around her knees and Hunk standing next to her with his hand on her shoulder.

"They're here," Hunk said reassuringly to Pidge as he noticed Shiro and Keith peering down at them.

"Is anyone hurt?" Shiro questioned again, already lowering a third line into the hole. "Pidge?" Keith couldn't see the expression on her face as she turned it up when she heard her name, but her posture told him everything. She wasn't hurt; she was freaking out. Hunk pulled her to her feet, almost physically straightening her joint by joint.

"No one's hurt," Allura responded, reaching up to catch the dock for their way out. "We're wondering what's going on up there, though."

"Some of the Galra fell into a hole too," Keith responded, watching closely as Allura grabbed the line and helped Pidge hook it into her belt. "And some are guarding the witch for some reason."

"It's that guy," Hunk volunteered. "The one that disappeared."

"He must have escaped," Shiro mused as he and Keith began drawing Pidge up. She held tight to the rope to keep herself oriented upright, clinging with her head tucked close to her chest. "Or maybe he fell into a hole too?"

"No, seriously," Hunk maintained. "He legitimately disappeared. Then the cave ins started."

"It doesn't matter," Pidge snapped unexpectedly. Keith could feel the line tense. "Let's just get out of here!"

"It's all right, Pidge," Shiro reassured, his voice calm. "You're almost out."

"I need to get to my lion," Pidge said, rather harshly, as if she'd been repeating herself about it for a while. "Something's wrong with her."

Keith couldn't speak around the 'I told you so' that suddenly clogged up his throat, so he busied himself with gently taking Pidge's arm as Shiro steadied the line, pulling her the rest of the way out of the hole and onto her feet.

"Alllura, you next," Shiro invited, starting another rescue line smoothly down. Keith let go of Pidge's arm only to grab her by the wrist as she made a beeline for the mouth of the canyon.

"What are you doing?" He hissed at her. "The Galra are still over there; they'll see you."

"My lion," Pidge repeated, completely uncaring about anything else.

"Keith," Shiro called, needing his help to pull Allura out. Keith tightened his grip on Pidge's wrist, compelling her with a slight jerk to just listen to him and wait for a minute.

"Just think," Keith cautioned. "We are not in fighting form over here; we've got two people in a trap and our guard is twenty feet away. I know the green lion is in trouble too; I tried to tell you before, but we can get her help faster if we all get up and into the ship first. So stay!"

Pidge's face tightened into a sulk. She clearly did not want to wait any longer. Keith stared at her. How could he make her understand that he knew what was going on but getting Hunk and Allura up was more important.

"Let's hurry," Pidge said, letting the tension drop from her arm, her reason catching up to her urgency. Keith released her wrist to help Shiro with Allura. "No, really guys, hurry." Pidge bounced on her heels, peering past where the canyon walls gave way, where she had left the green lion.

"What's wrong with the green lion?" Shiro asked, his voice edged in worry and strain as Allura's head appeared at the surface. Keith slipped one arm under hers as Shiro did the same on her other side, lifting her completely and setting her once again on the surface.

"She's shutting down," Keith answered for Pidge. "Like I said, the planet is stealing her quintessence." Pidge turned momentarily to look quizzically at him. Allura kept her hands wrapped around his arm, also staring. He turned his head to catch eyes with everyone who was looking, intent on proving himself with just the force of his gaze. "Right?" He eventually settled on Pidge to confirm what he was saying, justify what he'd been telling them from the start, shaking Alllura off of him.

"Keep a sharp eye, team," Coran's voice burst into all their helmets, making Keith tense. "That rippling is starting up again."

"More cave ins?" Hunk mused as he hurriedly fit the rope dock into his belt.

"Could be," Coran confirmed. "Lance! It's closer to you and the ship. Be on guard there."

"I would really like to be out of this hole," Hunk said, trying to keep his voice calm. Keith and Shiro were already hauling him up as he tried to walk his way up the side to help them. Keith noticed the sounds of the canyon behind him, filling his heart with remembered dread. The dirt at the edges of the first cave in was crumbling into it and there was a sense that the ground he was standing on was actually as fragile as ice. "Come on!" Hunk pleaded as he hit the surface, digging into the earth with both hands to pull himself out even as Shiro and Keith tugged him by his arms. On one side, Keith could hear the rocks crashing into the canyon, on the other, the Galra were also beginning to shout as they discovered that the ground was shifting.

"It did this the first time," Allura pointed out for them, grabbing on to Pidge, as they all looked downward as if that could help them prevent or predict where and what was about to happen. Keith felt Hunk's fingers tighten around his bicep and reached out himself to hold onto Shiro. Whatever happened, they would stay together. A loud crack struck like lightening, followed by a shout from Lance and suddenly all of them were jerked toward the ship by the lifelines on their belts. Keith hit hard on his side where he immediately felt himself dragged along the ground toward where he'd landed the ship. Hunk's hand disappeared as he too was pulled down.

"The ship's dropping!" Coran shouted.

"Break your lines!" Shiro ordered directly after, and Keith used all his muscles to curl around his belt, to shift the dock from his uniform under the tension of his own weight on one side and the ship's weight on the other.

"Lance!" He yelled even as he struggled to not be pulled down a crater. Had he got out? How far was this drop? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pidge stop sharply, followed by Shiro and Allura who rolled without breaking motion to her feet to chase after him and Hunk. She made a dive for Hunk's ankles to try and slow him as Shiro dashed in front and slashed through the rope with his glowing prosthetic hand. Keith fumbled the dock, twisting his body as much as possible as he was being dragged, hearing his name being called by Shiro. At last, he felt it give and was able to push it up, releasing him from the collapsing vehicle. He skidded to a stop in the dirt where Shiro dropped down beside him.

"You all right?" Shiro began, but there wasn't any time. Keith tripped himself getting to his feet, staying upright only by pushing for forward motion, headed for the newest crater in this miserable world. Did Lance fall? Again?

"Lance!" He shouted again, reining in his speed as he approached the new edge, hating to slow and knowing that if he didn't he could make everything so much worse. Lance's bayard lay discarded a few feet from the edge, and a couple more steps showed Keith that Lance had managed to jump from the rear bay. He was hanging by his fingertips to the unsteady edge. Without stopping, Keith dropped down to all fours, then to his stomach. He heard the rest of the team shouting in the background, but it was faded. There was also the familiar sizzle of energy weapons being discharged, but that was not his focus. His head was filled with his own panting and he saw nothing but where he clenched his hands around Lance's wrists, locking eyes with him, surprised to find no fear there, just a resigned sort of fatigue. It looked unnatural to Keith.

"I got you," he reassured, trying to ease himself more than settle Lance, digging the toes of his boots into the soil as a rudimentary anchor. He strained against Lance's weight, pulling him up and over the edge. Hunk joined him and together they raised the blue paladin to safety.

"Sorry, Keith," Lance panted with a ridiculous smirk twitching the corner of his mouth, looking more like himself now that he wasn't dangling off a precipice. "I left the ship without a lifeline." Keith stopped himself from punching him in the arm; feeling like a victim of emotional whiplash. He tilted his head to glance down the hole, seeing immediately that it was much farther down than where they'd just pulled Hunk up. He couldn't guess the distance. He also couldn't see much of the ruined vehicle.

"Shit," he muttered, realizing that they were not going to get it back.

"Keith," Hunk said, commanding his attention. He followed the yellow paladin's gaze, catching up on the reality of their situation. The Galra had realized they were there. They were going to have to fight.

"We're compromised," Shiro was yelling as Hunk dragged both Keith and Lance to their feet. "Let's get through as fast as we can. Everyone to the green lion!" Lance reacted swiftest to this news, moving forward and sweeping his bayard off the ground and against his shoulder without breaking stride, taking aim toward the mouth of the canyon where half a dozen Galra drone soldiers were blocking the path they needed to take toward the green lion.

Keith darted forward to flank Lance's left side, pulling his own bayard free, allowing the energy to pulse up his forearm as it lengthened into his sword, the shield manifesting around his opposite wrist. Hunk joined on Lance's other side, his shoulder canon also at the ready.

"Get behind us," Keith shouted at Allura, who carried no weapon. Shiro pushed Pidge also into the pocket behind Lance, taking the rear position. Keith shifted the shield toward the front as if it were the point of a spear. Sparks and splashes of dirt erupted around them as the Galra aimed shots, their accuracy increasing as the distance closed between them. Keith worried more about the disruption of the earth than actually being shot. The peppering of the soil could start another cave in any second. But then one Galra dropped its weapon and fell forward on to the ground, taken out by a shot from Hunk. Another followed as Lance's rifle blast burned through its chest. As they maneuvered closer, Shiro rushed out from behind to begin hand-to-hand combat, disarming as quickly as possible as the rest of the team continued to move forward.

"It's working!" Hunk cheered brightly as the cliff face of the canyon disappeared behind him. The Galra fighter plane was visible now, along with another two or three dozen soldiers who were just beginning to realize that they were not alone on the planet.

"Don't celebrate early, Hunk," Lance chastised, aiming and firing. And missing.

"Pay attention," Keith snapped, speeding up in order to take on an enemy who was ganging up on Shiro. He snagged the weapon out of its hands with his first strike upward, then sliced through the weak point in the drone's armor under the shoulder to tear into its circuitry. It sparked and fell.

But more were coming. The paladins moved faster, trying to break through the oncoming line with good timing and luck. They were being swarmed now. It was unclear to Keith which were drones and which were actual soldiers as he tore into limbs and knocked bodies over. He couldn't tell if the ground were still shaking underneath him. Allura cried out in pain, then Lance gave a surprised sort of yelp.

"Keep moving!" Shiro encouraged. "Don't stop or they'll take us. Keep moving forward."

Keith felt sweat drip into his eye, a momentary stinging, but his helmet prevented him from shaking it clear. His chest felt tight; too hot. He twisted to stab an attacker in the back to get it off Lance, who shook himself free of the suddenly limp hands and hopped over the body as it fell. He was slowing down.

"Come on!" Keith encouraged him, coughing. The original formation of the team had broken completely. He couldn't even see where Allura and Hunk were anymore. There was dust everywhere, kicked up by the battle, by the shots that had hit nothing but the earth. "We need to get back with the others."

Lance aimed a blast behind Keith, striking a drone in the head. He let his weapon momentarily droop, his free hand resting against the base of his skull. Keith gestured with his sword, pointing ahead, then bending his knees in a defensive stance as three more Galra rushed toward them. He blocked one with his blade, then jerked his head backward in order to knock another in the chest as it came up behind him, using the hardness of his helmet at a weapon. He heard Lance discharge his rifle for the third and then he heard Pidge screaming.

She wasn't ahead of him as he thought; she was still somewhere behind. With renewed energy he shoved himself away from the Galra trying to attach itself to his back, tearing into it savagely with his sword so he could pinpoint where Pidge was and what sort of help she needed.

Before he could make her out, a shadow appeared along the ground. Something massive. He turned to see what was attacking him, lifting his sword protectively, only to see the green lion sitting beyond the Galra ship, particle barrier down. But how did that happen? She was supposed to be cloaked and invisible.

"Pidge!" He yelled, hearing the name in echo as Allura and Shiro also screamed for the green paladin. The Galra also began shouting, some of them dropping their attacks to point at the lion, completely surprised by its sudden appearance. The robot cat raised to its feet, confusing and terrifying Keith. Pidge was behind him; she couldn't have gotten into the lion that fast to pilot. Why was the lion moving on its own? What had happened to Pidge to require it to do something like that?

"Pidge!" Lance screamed, moving backward, simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the lion, the Galra, and look for his teammate. The green lion gave a shake and roared, successfully freezing their enemy in their tracks. Shiro grabbed onto Keith's arm as he stood as transfixed as Zarkon's troops.

"Where's Pidge?" Shiro demanded, but Keith could only shake his head, pressing a hand to his chest.

"No!" Pidge shrieked in the dusty haze behind them, her voice pained and raw and horrified. The light went out of the green lion's eyes, and she leaped neatly over the Galra ship, sending tremors through the field. "Stop!"

"Retreat!" Came a gruff call from somewhere near the opening of the fighter ship. The Galra were more than ready to heed that order. The lion coiled and then suddenly shot through them all, the force of her passing over them knocking Keith to his knees. She tore over their battle ground and sprinted into the canyon, vanishing in an instant, the ground shaking under the force of her escape. As the remaining Galra soldiers hurried to get off the planet, the paladins regrouped around Pidge, who was again visible on the emptied field. Hunk was on his knees, both his hands on Pidge's shoulders as she cowered on the ground. The dust began to settle; a hush falling as eerily as the haze.

"What happened?" Allura asked, her voice intense and worried.

"How did you get her to do that?" Lance queried, standing close with his rifle casually in his hands, staring off toward where the green lion had gone.

"I didn't do anything!" Pidge yelled, unhinged. "She's gone!"

"Calm down, Pidge," Shiro pressed. "We need to make sense of what's happening here."

"She's gone," Pidge maintained, softer now, trembling in withdrawal, her hands clenched and pressed against the sides of her helmet. "Our link just snapped. She's not with me anymore. I can't hear her or feel her or . . . she's been taken."

Keith looked at Lance, who simply stared at Pidge in dismayed sympathy. He didn't remember, but Keith did. He and Blue had been separated by the planet too.

"It's ok," Keith soothed, nodding, looking from Lance to Pidge and back. Lance was wearing his curious look again, like he didn't know who Keith was, a tired, worn, old look. It made Keith want to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He didn't. "This happened before with Blue." Lance's mouth opened, but Keith talked over him. "Your bond isn't broken, just hidden somehow. You can get her back. It's ok."

"How?" Pidge asked, with effort, tears in her voice.

"I . . . I don't know," Keith answered, disappointingly. "Lance did it."

Lance took a step back in discomfort as he suddenly became the focus of the entire party. It made Keith sorry he'd said anything, but this was important. They had to get the green lion back.

"Lance?" Pidge began, so hopeful it hurt. Lance's rifle disintegrated back into the bayard, which then fell to his side as his arms and shoulders drooped. He hung his head, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at his team.

"I'm sorry," he told them. "I really don't remember."

"That's all right," Shiro replied, making it seem as though he were responding to everyone. "We'll have Coran land to pick us up. We'll take the other lions to get Pidge's back. We'll figure it out." He looked at Keith directly as he made the plan, anticipating a protest. But Keith gave him a tiny nod; there really was no other choice here. It would be a risk, but he thought it might be ok if each pilot stayed with their lion, their combined quintessence was the most powerful. It wasn't ideal, but there really wasn't anything else to be done.

Allura alerted Coran to their most recent situation and plan, then everyone fell silent as they waited for him to navigate to them. They intended for him to touch down farther away, near where the green lion had rested, hoping it would be far enough not to create another rift on the planet and plunge them all down another hole.

Hunk stayed close to Pidge, though it was clear that there would be no consoling her as long as she remained separated from her lion. She clung to Lance, as if trying to force him to remember anything that could help her with pure physical contact. Lance comfortingly put his arms around her, but he kept staring at Keith, making him uncomfortable. He moved away, not liking the question in the gaze, not wanting to invite anymore conversation about Blue and what had happened before. Keith stared down into the canyon where the beast had gone, trying to figure it out. Blue hadn't moved, except at the very end to save Lance. What was different? Where was the green lion going, leaving her paladin behind? It made no sense.

"Keith?" He bit the inside of his cheek, expecting this, but they'd long ago left behind the scenarios where he had any answers.

"I don't know," he said reflexively before hearing any question. Mostly he wanted to yell at the entire team. He'd told them that something like this would happen! He'd warned them and they had done it anyway. And now they wanted him to just fix it because he'd done it before, right? But he hadn't; it had been Blue who had saved them the last time. The lion had done everything, but this time the lion had abandoned them. He was at a complete loss and only barely keeping it together, reminding himself that this wasn't like last time. Coran was still in the castle above them. He was working his way down. It would be twenty minutes, maybe a few more, but he was not stranded down here. He was not alone. No one was injured.

"Keith," Allura repeated, hesitantly. "Lance has no memory, but did you notice anything from before? Anything that could help us get the green lion back? What exactly happened?"

Keith turned his head just slightly, keeping his arms folded. He wanted to continue to be petulant about this, deliberately unhelpful to prove a point. But more than that, he wanted to get everyone safe.

"Red told me that Blue's quintessence was being drained by the soil," Keith repeated. "That this –" he gestured around him, vaguely capturing everything with a sweep of his arm. "This whole planet is dormant quintessence. Blue was only able to move at the end to get Lance because he really needed her. He was going to die. I don't know how he did it because he thought their bond was broken too. He wasn't awake; he said her name, but he was also talking to his mom, so I don't think he knew what he was doing."

"All planets contain quintessence," Allura responded. "Otherwise they couldn't support life."

"That's not what Red said," Keith retorted, trying not to make his tone so biting. "This planet is different, and there is no life here."

"You keep saying that. What does that mean? You sound like your lion actually spoke to you."

"She did. I mean, sort of. It was amazing, but she didn't use words or anything."

Allura's face was full of questions, but the one that stood out the most was actually doubt. Keith knew she wanted to ask him how he could understand what Red meant if she hadn't used words, that maybe he had misunderstood her, but she didn't dare.

"I can't explain it," Keith said. "But I know what she meant. The soil here is dormant quintessence, trapped somehow. That's why nothing can live here."

Allura removed one of her gloves, bending down and scooping some of the loose dirt into her hand, crumbling it in her fingers, watching it closely as it shifted.

"Don't do that," Keith warned her. "It can take your quintessence too. Don't touch it if you don't have to."

"I understand," Allura acknowledged, brushing her hand off on her uniform and replacing her glove. "And I believe you, but that doesn't explain anything about the green lion. She didn't rally her strength to save her paladin. Where did she go?"

"I don't know," Keith repeated, hating how they were just talking and wondering in circles and getting absolutely nowhere. He turned a bit more, looking behind them to where Lance leaned wearily on Hunk, Pidge still holding his hand. "Nothing here makes sense."

"Shiro said that you don't want anyone to tell Lance what happened," Allura switched topics as she noticed where he was looking. Keith sighed, folding his arms tighter around him, wondering when Shiro had the time to tell her that.

"It's not important. We've got bigger problems right now."

"It's important to Lance. All he knows is that he fell. He has so many questions that he doesn't feel it appropriate to ask given our situation, but hopefully very soon, there will be time for an explanation. We will have to tell him something. I don't know why you would keep it from him. You saved his life."

"No, I didn't," Keith quipped. "If Blue hadn't saved us, he would be dead now. I completely failed him. Why would I want to tell him that when he already thinks I hate him?"

"Keith, you can't think that," Allura said, her eyes suddenly huge. "It's just not true."

"Like I said, it's not important. We need to get the green lion back." Keith stepped away from her, hoping she would let him go. She put a hand up as if she meant to catch him and keep him near her, but he ducked out from under it and walked purposefully away. He walked away from all of them, his eyes scanning the horizon, hoping for a glimpse of the castle, even though he knew it hadn't been long enough for Coran to get down to them yet. He walked past a depression in the earth, one of the green lion's massive pawprints compressing the soil. He thought back to Pidge's scream right at the time the lion's invisibility had been compromised. He thought of the light leaving her eyes as she coiled herself to spring for the canyon. He thought of the canyon itself, the twenty-three miles from where they were waiting to the place where Lance and Blue had fallen into the scar. He wondered how far they had made it.

"Is someone there? Vrex? Kai?"

Keith jumped backward at the unexpected voice from the dust.

"Please? Someone help me!"

Carefully, Keith moved closer to the voice. It was coming from the other cave in. The one that the Galra had fallen into. In their haste to leave, they had abandoned one of their soldiers in the pit. Keith's mouth twisted in disgust.

"Shiro!" He called behind him, watching as his leader's head lifted in acknowledgement. Keith waved him over. "Guys! Come over here." They looked at each other for a second, some of them coming to their feet, before making their way to join him.

"They left you behind, huh?" Keith spoke to the Galra in the hole, peering in just enough to confirm that there was only one, again about twenty feet from the surface.

"The Red Paladin," the Galra muttered, a hesitant hope in his voice. They both knew they weren't friends, that if they had met under any other circumstances they would never have spoken to each other. But today was different. The soldier needed a rescue. Keith needed information. It was barter time.

"What is it, Keith – oh," Shiro said as he joined him. They were all there now, standing around the fallen soldier. When Keith had appeared at the edge, the Galra man had been stretched against the side of his prison, arms lifted as if he could somehow reach the top. As more and more of his enemy appeared above him, he began to cower, pressing himself against the opposite side from where they stood, his body language clear in that he knew he was in a horrible spot. Completely at their mercy.

"What's your name?" Shiro asked him, pity coating his expression.

"What were you doing here?" Pidge shot in, overly emotional. Shiro put a hand on her arm to keep her quiet and she bit her lip, hard. The soldier looked to each of their faces before shaking his head.

"We can help you," Shiro told him, firmly. "But first you're going to have to help us."

"They'll kill me if I tell you anything," was the answer.

"They've killed you anyway," Keith pointed out flatly. "You know it." The soldier looked to the ground, the muscles in his shoulders relaxing.

"How about this," Shiro said. "You give us some answers, and we'll help you out of the hole."

"To be your prisoner? No!" He turned his attention to Lance, who had his rifle at the ready. "Just shoot me."

"Sorry, I don't do requests," Lance told him.

"And we don't take prisoners," Shiro continued. "If you help us, we can take you somewhere safe."

"Let's just leave him," Pidge said, unable to keep quiet anymore.

"If that's what he wants," Shiro agreed, an edge to his voice that reminded Keith that he had been a Galra prisoner not too long ago. "What do you say?" The soldier looked down, his internal struggle obvious.

"Going once," Shiro said as Pidge and Hunk left the perimeter of the hole. Keith watched fear dilate the Galra's eyes as his head snapped back up in panic. "Twice." Allura and Hunk also stepped backward, out of eyeshot. "And . . ."

"All right!" He shouted, raising a hand, defeat in all his limbs. "I don't know what help I will be, but I'll tell you what I can. Please, mercy."

"Good choice," Shiro complimented, then surprisingly dropped himself down into the hole with the trapped Galra. Allura gasped and Lance tightened his hold on his rifle. Keith understood, but he hated that Shiro was so generous this way.

"There," the Black Paladin said, standing as far from the soldier as the hole would allow. "Now we're in this together, a sign of good faith. So let's have a chat."

"What do you want to know?"

Author's Note: Everyone ok? LOTS happened here; I know, and I'm delighted that I was able to get it done in time for you. This story is a writing exercise for me - to see if I can write well under deadline pressure. To see if I can write chronologically (Which is something I NEVER do), and to write from only one character's point of view (I usually skip around as pleases me). So far, so good. I'm rather pleased.

Now, on to stuff you care about. What DO you want to know? Our new Galra friend has some answers, and I want to make sure no one is super confused. (Wondering maybe about what will happen, but not confused as to stuff that's already happened) What would you want to ask the soldier in the hole?


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Oh guys, I'm so sorry. I have no good excuse - my 8-year-old daughter and I started watching Miraculous together and she started writing a story about it (holy crow! My daughter is writing fanfiction! GOOD fanfiction!) and then gave it to me and suddenly I was writing an entirely different novel (Fight Like This) that took over the whole universe and honestly, this story got away from me because space battles and machines are not my forte and it's been almost a year and . . .**

 **Who cares, really? Because I never start something without finishing it eventually. I admit, this story is hard to get back into, especially where I left off. I don't know why I thought I had to put in like . . . actual plot stuff . . because I rather want to hurry through it so Lance and Keith can** ** _talk_** **. . . (thank you years of creative writing classes) . . but now we are all in this together and I will get us out. This story is back on my radar and I promise I will finish it before I start writing the sequel to Fight Like This (yes, it needs a sequel - my daughter is brilliant.)**

 **Again, I'm sorry.**

Chapter Eight

"Let's start with what you were doing here," Shiro began conversationally, as if he were conducting an interview, as if they were seated at a desk instead of a quasi-standoff at the bottom of a cave in. From where Keith stood above Shiro, he could see the tension in his back and knew that while his tone was gentle, his body was ready for a fight. Lance too stood at the ready, guarding Shiro with his rifle trained on the Galra. "What does Zarkon want with this planet?"

"It is beneath the Emperor to know about individual planets," the soldier returned, insulted. "He does not concern himself with trivial matters such as this."

"Fine," Shiro continued, the edge back to his voice. He didn't want to play games here. "Then what does Haggar want with this place?" There was still insult in the soldier's expression, but he wasn't exactly in position to demand his captors refer to his rulers by his expected titles.

"The quintessence," he sneered, and Keith realized then that he truly was being difficult on purpose. He wasn't going to give them anything without a direct question. He was stalling them. On impulse, Keith tucked himself behind Lance, wrapping around the Blue Paladin and using his readied stance and his rifle to fire once directly between the soldier's feet. He felt Lance tense against him, not expecting this, but he didn't shake Keith off. They stood together in the aftermath of Keith's spur-of-the-moment decision, Lance relinquishing the trigger of his weapon in case Keith wasn't finished with his warning shots.

"Careful, man," Lance whispered, their heads close together. Keith understood. Lance didn't want him to compromise the integrity of the ground by shooting at it, but he also didn't want to compromise Keith's assertion of control by warning him loud enough the soldier could hear him.

"Let's speed this up," Keith suggested, coldly. "I'm going to give my buddy here a shot for every question we have to ask you, and to be even more fair to you I'll let you know now that he's a better shot than me. He won't miss, and I'd say he could probably put a couple dozen shots into you before you can't talk anymore. So let's start this thing over. What were you doing here?" The Galra looked up at him with something like respect in his expression.

"All right," he acknowledged. Keith let Lance go, his point taken. "We started mining quintessence from this planet several cycles ago. It didn't look like this then – there were trees, water, animals. The inhabitants called it Mallea. I was part of the initial scout party to determine the suitability of this location for mining, but I was not here for the first extraction."

He paused then, almost long enough that Keith thought he would need an actual wound to persuade him to continue. Shiro took a step toward him, but he held up his hand.

"It did not go as planned," he said. "We'd never seen anything like it before. We heard from those stationed here for the mission that when the quintessence was pulled from the planet's core, it started very slowly but then erupted. The equipment was swallowed, the whole area caved into the drill site. The quintessence shot into the air and came down like dust. Where it coated, everything disappeared. The trees, the animals, the others who lived here – everything turned to dust. Our soldiers sent out a distress call, but by the time we arrived to retrieve them, they were all gone. We found only one survivor."

Lance was trembling beside Keith now with the effort of keeping his rifle up. Keith wanted to take it from him but knew that in his hands the bayard would be useless, unrecognizable as a weapon. He touched Lance lightly on the arm, indicating he should get low. Lance glared at him, but took the suggestion. Slowly, so as not to distract their prisoner, Lance eased to his knees, then to his stomach, resting his arms at the edge of the hole, never taking his eyes off the soldier, even though he had stopped looking at any of them. He was staring at the ground.

"We brought him back with us. He could hardly breathe, but when we presented him to the High Priestess, she had him imprisoned immediately. She said he'd been taken." Again he cut off, but not because he was being difficult now. This time it seemed he truly didn't have the words to explain. Keith looked at Pidge as he waited for him to continue. Those were the words she had used. Taken. "I don't understand exactly," he confessed. "But I heard from others who had heard the High Priestess speak to him that she addressed him differently. Like he wasn't Galra. Almost as if he were Mallean.

"She sent others to return here after she learned what happened. Many were lost to landslides, but those that did come back brought soil with them for her to study. We learned that the quintessence was still here, but different. It now requires a catalyst to activate it, but the potential has increased. We came here a few days ago with the survivor but were chased away by your lions. We returned today because the High Priestess was convinced that the soldier could demonstrate what had happened – how the quintessence had changed. She wanted to see how it was done, to learn this sorcery. But we lost him. He too turned to dust and then the ground fell out from under me."

Hunk gave a quick look around at his companions at this statement, his face triumphant. He'd been right. The prisoner had just disappeared. Allura bent low to the ground, again sifting the soil in her fingers, frowning.

"That's all I know," he finished, sliding against the dirt to a seated position, hanging his head. "Now please finish me quickly."

"Pidge," Shiro called up. "We're going to need your bayard down here."

Though she looked uncertain, as if she wanted to demand something else from their captive, Pidge did as instructed and shot her grappling hook into the hole.

"Take it," Shiro invited. "We'll get you out of here, as promised. We have contacts for people like you. We can get you somewhere safe."

Hesitantly, the soldier picked up Pidge's hook, using it to make a harness for himself, staring the entire time at Shiro, silent. Keith watched intently as Pidge used her bayard, with Hunk's help, to haul the soldier from the pit, his mind twisting around the narrative, trying to make something from it. The quintessence, the dust, the surviving and disappearing Galra prisoner, the Green lion, Lance.

The Blue Paladin was standing again as his target came up from the ground, the effort of holding his guard evident in his body. Keith took his own weapon from his belt, feeling the weight shift as the sword lengthened from the handle. Now that they were on the same level, the long-distance weapon wasn't necessary.

"I've got him," he told Lance, putting his free hand on his shoulder blade. "Take a break." Lance's eyes narrowed at him momentarily, judging if he were being insulted, before dropping the rifle, slumping a bit. In another moment, Shiro joined them, also using Pidge's bayard and Hunk's strength to get up.

"What do you make of it?" He asked Allura straightaway, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. She was clearly not expecting to be looked to for answers.

"I don't know," she answered, hesitantly, as if hoping inspiration would strike her before she finished the sentence. "But I can feel it, the quintessence in the soil. It's vibrating."

"Vibrating?" Shiro repeated.

"I don't know how to explain it," Allura amended. "The closest thing I can come up with is like an egg on the verge of hatching. Something is activating the dormant energy, but it's struggling. Like there's not quite enough."

"Do you know anything else?" Shiro turned to the Galra soldier, standing in the shadow of Keith's sword.

"Just speculation," he answered, eyeing Keith. "I say, the quintessence requires a catalyst, something with massive energy to activate it."

"But if the whole planet is dormant, where would the energy come from?" Hunk mused, as if speaking to himself.

"It took my lion," Pidge realized, a new pitch of urgency and terror in her voice. "It's using her quintessence as the catalyst."

The boom of the castle breaking into the atmosphere hit them then, trembling the ground beneath them as the huge ship descended. Lance lost his balance, dropping to one knee. Keith turned to him and in that instant, the Galra sprinted away toward the mouth of the canyon.

"Don't!" Keith yelled, taking off after him. "Don't go in there!" He jumped over a broken drone that they'd left behind on their battlefield, tailing the much taller Galra man as he made his break into the canyon.

"You'll die if you go in there!" Keith screamed, hoping to reason him back since it was becoming very obvious he wouldn't catch him by running. The cliff sides rose dangerously on either side of him as he neared the canyon mouth, darkening the path. "Come back!" He skidded to a stop when he saw the place where their ship had fallen, everything in him seizing up at the idea of going any farther. He couldn't go in there again. The soldier was getting smaller into the distance. In another minute, he would disappear completely in the curve of the canyon. And then he'd be lost.

He knew it was useless, that there was no trust between them even though they had saved him from the hole, and yet he couldn't just let him go. Not in there. "Hey!"

"Keith!" Someone grabbed at his wrist, and he didn't resist them. He looked at the ground. "There's no point; he's gone."

Keith let Shiro keep his hold on him as he turned him away from the canyon and back to where the castle hovered just above the surface of the planet. "Are you all right?" Shiro asked as Keith found it difficult to turn his attention from where the Galra had gone.

"I lost him," Keith heard himself growl, feeling responsible. He was supposed to be guarding him, but he'd turned his attention away for just long enough. "He won't make it in there." Shiro took a second to also look down the canyon, then at Keith.

"That's on him, not you," Shiro told him, sounding so sure and solid. It steadied Keith a bit. "Come on; let's get the Green lion back." Keith allowed himself to be pulled away, back to where the team waited for them by the pod Coran had dropped to pick them all up.

"What's the plan?" Hunk asked Shiro as they entered together, Keith feeling some anxiety strip away as he stepped into the reliable machine that would take him out of here. Soon, he'd be back in the castle, away from the dust. He looked at Lance, who met his eyes for a second before turning away. Pidge was the only one who looked even close to how he felt – her hands balled up tight and her body rigidly anticipating getting on with it.

"We'll have to use the castle to pinpoint the Green lion's location," Shiro was saying as Keith tuned back in to the conversation. "Once we find out where she is, we'll decide how to retrieve her."

The rest of the team nodded at the plan, then focused their energy inward in preparation. Keith found himself next to Lance, studying him hard. He was too damn quiet, and it was bothering him. He kept close to his side as the pod re-entered the castle and everyone made their way onto the bridge. He barely heard the others talking about the Green lion, asking Pidge if she could sense her at all, if there were anything she could tell them about what might be going on and where, because he couldn't stop watching Lance and trying to figure out if he were having trouble seeing. Was he being slower than normal? Did he always walk like that, with his hand at the back of his head? Was he in pain? Would Keith even be able to tell?

"Have you got a location?" Shiro was asking Coran even before he'd come to a stop beside the monitors of the planet. Lance ducked out of Keith's scrutiny, hiding behind Hunk who helpfully put his arm on his back, turning him from Keith.

"It's hard to get a reading," Coran said. "But it looks like the Green lion is where Blue fell at the other end of the canyon, or rather, under it."

"I bet that's the drill site," Hunk offered. "Where the quintessence flooded."

"What do you mean under?" Pidge interrupted. "Was there another cave in?"

"Not according to my monitors, but from the readings it does seem as if the Green lion is underground."

"Like a tunnel?" Shiro asked.

"Like she's digging," Coran clarified, broadcasting the monitor in question to give them a look. It was hard to see, just a topographical scan of the surface layer, but as Keith stared at it, he could make out disturbances, shifting around the central location. Digging could be the right word.

"Let's go," Pidge demanded, and Keith agreed. They knew where she was now, no need to wait around anymore.

"Ride with me," Hunk offered to Pidge, knowing that if digging were involved, the Yellow lion was fastest.

"I'm coming too," Allura said.

"Are you sure, Princess?" Coran asked worriedly, obviously not in favor of the idea.

"No," she answered. "Not about anything, but I think I need to go with Pidge. I felt the quintessence in the soil. I think I may be able to communicate with the planet."

"Ok, Pidge and Allura in the Yellow lion with Hunk," Shiro said. "The rest of us –"

"Hang on a second," Coran broke in, bringing their attention to another screen that was suddenly flashing red lights. "We have a snag. Those are Galra ships," he said unnecessarily. Pidge gave a frustrated groan.

"How many?" Allura said.

"Looks like three warships; who knows how many fighters," Coran answered as he consulted the screen. Hunk slumped.

"The Green lion is still our first priority," Shiro stated firmly. "Hunk will take Pidge to get it back while Lance, Keith, and I do what we can about the Galra. Allura?" He looked to the princess to await her decision on what she would do now with the sudden change in circumstances.

"I'm still going with Pidge" she declared, firmly. "Coran will handle the castle."

"Then we'd better get going so he can secure it and get the particle barrier up," Shiro said. "Let's move."

Hunk, Pidge, and Allura dashed off as one unit to the Yellow lion while Shiro sprinted towards Black's hanger. Keith grabbed Lance's wrist as he took off past him, almost knocking him off balance. Lance twisted his fist up, bringing their elbows together when Keith didn't let go, his eyes dark and flashing. Coran watched them with a worried questioning expression.

"Not this again," Lance said, heated. "We need everyone in the air, Keith; we don't have time for you to be weird. Let me go."

Keith really did not want to do that, even though he knew Lance was right. There just wasn't enough time for him to ask Coran to do another med scan, to make sure, absolutely sure, that Lance was fit enough to do the things that he so obviously had to. They needed the Blue lion, but he didn't want it to cost Lance something he couldn't get back.

"Be careful," he cautioned, reluctantly releasing Lance, wishing he had better control over his voice tone. Somehow his concern was coming out confrontational.

"You too," Lance replied awkwardly, defensively pulling back from Keith with an expression of confusion before turning toward where Blue was waiting.

"Keith, get going!" Coran snapped at him, shaking him from where he stood watching Lance leave. He felt the hand he'd used to hold Lance tighten into a fist as he sprinted toward Red, intent on making up the time he had lost considering his teammate.

Red growled impatiently as he dropped into the cockpit, and suddenly he realized that all the anxiety he'd been experiencing today wasn't completely his. He closed his hands over the controls and closed his eyes against the barrage of images and feelings Red was throwing at him all at once. Sparks of dust, of the Green lion and Pidge, and the twitchy ache of needing to do something about it. She wanted out. Immediately.

"All right, Red," he consoled her, slowing down the intensity of what she was pouring into him. "Let's go."

She shot through the hangar opening like the comet she was made from, reminding Keith more of riding an animal than piloting a machine. He felt her pull on his own quintessence, merging their energy and consciousness, brightening the cockpit, focusing their balance until his thoughts were enough to guide her more than his fingers. The tightness in Keith's chest broke open in wide, exhilarating freedom even as a horde of Galra fighting ships appeared on his display. It was threatening, but at the same time it was comfortingly familiar. This was an enemy he could see, that followed patterns and predictable maneuvers, something that he knew how to fight. This was his battleground. He activated Red's jawblade, ready for destruction.

"Lance?" He heard Shiro call through their connected radios. "Where are you?"

Keith felt everything inside him tangle up, like he'd just crashed through a barbed wire fence. Damn it, Lance! What the hell was he trying to do? He did a quick scan of his surroundings, noticing now that while the Black lion hovered at his left side, the Blue lion was not there yet even though Lance had left before him.

"Lance!" Keith yelled for him, needing to hear him. What was going on? What happened?

"I'm coming," came the answer. Lance's voice was neither strong nor steady. Something was wrong. "Just . . . I need a minute." It was hard for Keith to hear clearly through the limitations of the technology that connected them, but there was definitely a tremor in Lance's voice now. He'd heard it before, in the canyon, right before Lance had admitted that he wasn't good enough to pilot the Blue lion.

"Stay where you are," Keith instructed, punching the words as hard as if he were shoving Lance into a chair. He couldn't do this; if he flew into combat and lost control, lost his sight, lost consciousness, Keith wasn't sure he could protect him. That couldn't happen.

"Lance, what's going on?" Shiro asked, stress crumbling around the edges of his calm. But the only sound from the Blue lion was the partial burst of what might have been a sob before the connection was cut off abruptly. Keith felt his shoulders tense, wishing things would just stop for a second so he could figure this out, so Coran could go check Blue's hangar, something.

"Looks like it's just us for now," Shiro told Keith, somehow able to compartmentalize each disaster separately, assigning them a number of importance as to when he would deal with them. Keith tried doing that too, but found that his order was different despite how close the Galra were advancing toward them. Somehow Lance seemed more important right this second, despite everything going on around them.

"Lance!" He shouted, wondering if he could even hear him. "Lance, you ok?"

"Keith, come on!" Shiro pulled ahead, his training replacing his emotions, smashing the Black lion into the Galra line headed for them, firing shots and using his own jawblade simultaneously as he plunged into their formation, creating explosions on either side in his wake. Keith twisted Red's head, slashing a fighter ship in half before following the momentum into a barrel roll around six more, spiral slicing through them in a fluid movement.

"We got this," Keith said aloud, talking to Lance as if he could hear, talking to himself. "Just stay where you are." Stay safe.

He had to turn his full attention to the battle then, not being able to help Lance anymore, if barking partial sentences at him could be considered helping in the first place. In a way, he was relieved he wasn't there, even though he wasn't sure what was going on, even though that left only Shiro to help him with the Galra. They'd been through worse. Maybe.

"Do what you can," Shiro also encouraged Lance, though there was a strain in his tone, though that was not what Keith wanted Lance to do. He didn't want him to push himself, didn't want him out and exposed. But he knew it didn't matter what he wanted; Lance would do it anyway. The best way to keep him out of this was to finish before he even started. Keith raced Red up close to Shiro, flying in a double helix through a patrol, trying to break their way through to what they really needed to destroy. The fighters were a nuisance; the warships were the true targets. They just had to get past to do something about them. Keith plunged Red forward, using her speed at its finest.

"Hunk?" Shiro called, able to focus outside of their personal pocket of disaster for a few seconds now that Keith was flying reliably at his side through a well-trained maneuver, the Galra falling around them in reckless waste. "What's your status?"

"We just made it to the site," Allura answered for Hunk, who was undoubtedly concentrating too hard to talk. "We can see where the Green lion went, but we can't see her yet."

"Pidge?" Lance unexpectedly on the radio again, voice still small and weird, a conversation at the back of Keith's mind as he ran calculations on speed and trajectory, on angle and recoil, registering them semi-consciously almost as an afterthought, the way you feel that three times three is nine in an instant but you could show the work if you had to. An explosion lit up his screen as he escorted Red through the aftermath of two more destroyed ships. "You're . . . you're going to have to fight for her."

"How? Exactly?" Pidge asked, edgy and annoyed. Keith could practically see Lance sitting in Blue's cockpit, hunched over the controls, head tilted in that terrible way, like his soul had already left his body. He sounded just awful; what the hell happened in those few moments he'd been left alone? Keith tried to speed up, to get this over with. Lance didn't do so well being left alone.

"Focus," Lance instructed, a tone he used very rarely, but with conviction. He was certain about what he was saying, though he sounded like it was hurting him to talk. "You're going to have to pull."

"But I can't feel her!" Pidge snapped, helplessness converting into hostility, missing completely the obvious strain in Lance's words. "It's like she was never with me."

"It's more like she never left you," Lance corrected, causing a distressing prickling to go over Keith's skin under his suit. He shook it off by smashing into another plane. There were so many.

"There she is!" Hunk broke in. Keith wished he could be there, could see what was going on in both the Yellow and Blue lions. But that wasn't his job. Red was his lion and all his focus. The fighters kept swarming him, keeping him away from the warships. So many. How could Zarkon have access to such a vast army? How could it matter so little to him to sacrifice such a great number to the lions?

"Keep up," Shiro was yelling, feeling subliminally that Keith wasn't as present in the fight as he should be. "They're trying to push us into the atmosphere."

Keith's mind split into sections, one piece trying to do what Shiro wanted – to keep up with all that was going on, track individual ships as they zoomed around them like a hostile flock of birds, as random as rain. The other pieces breaking to circle around the radio voices, putting together images, assessing scenes he could not see. The tiny bit of his consciousness that was leftover projected that this just might be the battle that pushed him over the edge of sanity if it went on much longer. He told it to shut up – he was too busy for that kind of prissy bullshit. Red gave a shake of agreement.

"How?" Pidge kept asking, gaining volume and intensity every time she said it. " _How_ Lance?"

Every few seconds another fighter ship exploded in flames, ripped to pieces by Red's claws only to be replaced with half a dozen more. The Black lion dodged in and out of sight, flying directly over Red to dash apart a fighter coming up behind them.

"Keith!" Shiro snapped tersely, not from anything wrong Keith had done but as a stress reflex to the never-ending swarm crashing into them. Yeah, he knew. They needed help, needed Voltron, but how to manage it? Several lines of sweat tickled down Keith's jawline. The prickling sensation had yet to dissipate, but began climbing up the back of his skull. He bucked his shoulders up, rotating them backward violently as he pulled Red above a pair of ships headed for him, allowing them to collide in a double firework of debris.

"Almost," Hunk growled, a nondescript indication as to the closing distance between the Yellow and Green lions.

"Lance!" Pidge screamed, furious in her helplessness, rattling Keith's already damaged nerves. Couldn't she hear? Didn't she understand that every word Lance gave her was difficult? But he couldn't say that, it would be completely unproductive, so he pressed his frustration into the demolition of another enemy ship. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I can't explain it," Lance said, still too quiet, still too small. Was no one else noticing this? "Pull."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Hunk started repeating. "Is that you pulling, Pidge?" And now _his_ voice sounded off, rattled. Things were not going according to any plan; they were slipping out of control, something Keith hated more than anything.

"What's going on?" Keith snapped right on top of Shiro's, "Guys?"

"Shut up!" Pidge barked followed by a heavy grunting yell from Hunk.

"Guys!" Shiro shouted again.

"The Green lion is attacking us," Allura finally answered, through clenched teeth, even her voice sounding as though she were holding on for dear life as Hunk entered into combat with the smaller lion. "Her stealth-mode has been activated – we can't see her anymore."

"Little help here!" Hunk called, sing-song, his annoying coping mechanism to rushes of adrenaline and panic.

"We're trying," Shiro responded immediately. "There's a lot going on up here too."

"I'm coming." A streak of blue sizzled across Keith's display, leaving a destructive fire-ripple Doppler pattern behind it, racing through the battle on its way to the drill site.

"Lance," Keith squeezed the name through his frozen jaw, hating that he'd been pulled into this, that they hadn't been quick enough. "What are you doing?" God, don't go down there. Don't take Blue down there! "Stop! I'll go!"

"Looks like your dance card's full!" Lance hissed, already out of sight.

"Keith," Shiro spat his name in a spike of a sound wave through the radio, and then a white flash blanked out his entire display – giving him only enough warning to brace himself as the ion cannon slammed into Red. He felt a jerk on all his internal organs as the force temporarily shifted the atmosphere of the pressurized cockpit, a sensation resembling being punched in the gut and kicked in the chest simultaneously, expelling all the air in his lungs in one sick push.

Before he had time to orient himself enough to try and slow Red, to reposition her thrusters back to their original coordinates, she crashed on her back onto the life-draining dirt of Mallea. The white of the ion beam pixelated off the screen, replaced by a dust cloud. Keith heard Shiro grunt painfully as the Black lion landed next to him. The light in the cockpit dimmed, and he felt something go slack in the controls under his palms.

"Red?" He spoke his fear, pulling back to no response. Was it the ion cannon or the dirt doing this to her? Keith peered through the dust, trying to make out the Black lion, trying to see something. This wasn't happening. This definitely was too awful to be happening. "Shiro?"

"Keith, you ok?" Shiro began. "I can't get the Black lion online." The ground beneath them began to shudder. Keith tightened his hold on Red's controls, consciously attempting to flood her with his quintessence to block whatever else might be pulling her, not knowing if he were actually doing anything.

"We have to move," he shouted at Shiro, at Red. The dirt cloud on the screen darkened; he felt himself sinking. The lights of the Galra fighters were no longer visible. The shaking ground pulled itself out from underneath them; they were being swallowed by the planet. "Red!" It was going to steal her quintessence, and his, turn them into dust.

"You have to concentrate," Lance said, quietly, calm.

"On _what_?" Keith growled, even though part of him knew that Lance wasn't talking to him. Dirt began piling up against the screen and Keith also felt it clogging up his throat. No, it's not in my mouth, or my lungs, he lectured himself, but he coughed anyway. I hate this planet – hate it – every stupid piece of dust on it. He had to get up, get out of here, somehow make it over to where the others were, get them _the hell away from here!_

There was static on the connection now; all he could hear were tones. For a few extra seconds, he could differentiate his teammates by their cadence and pitch, though individual words were not coming through. He strained to make out anything they were saying. He didn't want to lose them. Didn't want to be lost. The static increased, then stopped. The screen blacked out; he'd been buried alive.

 **one more author's note: Wow, this IS hard. So many characters, and I have never in my life written from only one character's perspective before. Be patient with me, ok? I don't know when the next update will be . . . but it won't be a year from now.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I admit, this chapter would have taken less time if I hadn't been focused so much on writing the stuff that comes** _ **after**_ **this. I want a happy ending, people! I want the fight over. But we're getting closer. Thanks for your patience and your reviews! (Both just make my day.)**

Chapter Nine

Keith convulsively cleared his throat, gripping the controls until a cramp developed in his forearm. "Red," he rasped. Everything had gone so quiet. Her auxiliary lights did not activate; the cockpit so dark that Keith finally closed his eyes against the strain of trying to see. Then he squeezed them shut harder as something Lance had done while blind suddenly made sense to him. Keith felt like all the veins in his body were going to break - overstretched rubber bands, but if Lance could keep his panic checked for days, then he could do it for however long it was going to take him to figure this out. But it was hard to think over the stress of the sensory deprivation. No sound except his own. And absolutely dark. So, so dark. The kind of dark that has a weight. He unbuckled himself from the pilot's seat, feeling too constricted, trapped. He needed to move, touch things, escape. He coughed against his will, shook his head, and pinned his chin to his chest, tapping his fingers restlessly on the console. How was he going to get out of this?

The Red Paladin relies on instinct, but that wasn't always a good thing. In the heat of a battle where fractions of seconds counted, sure, but alone in tight spaces where there was no way out? Now his instinct was working against him, screaming at him to flee, to tear out of the lion, to use brute force to fight his way to the surface of the planet again. It suddenly seemed a good idea to him to pry open the cockpit and somehow dig himself out. It felt completely possible to break through the indestructible glass of the display. Not only possible. Necessary. And now!

"Hold still," he told himself impatiently, out loud, struggling for control over his flight or fight response. Neither of those options was going to help him here. Opening the cockpit would just drown him in dirt. He had to think of a better plan, quickly, before his air ran out. Had Coran ever told them how many minutes of breathable oxygen was available in the closed system of an unresponsive lion? Had there been training on that? He cleared his throat, then growled at himself for doing it. There is nothing in your throat, Keith, he berated himself, hating how his mind was making it real.

He twisted in the pilot's chair, knowing that if he left it he would drop toward the back of the cockpit, that Red was lying on her back, the display facing the sky when they'd landed. He heard himself make a strange moaning sound as he thought of the sky, the freedom it represented, how far it was from him right now. His knees tucked into the closed angle of the seat, his fingers clutching the backrest as he leaned his forehead down onto the edge, curling his body over as if he were kneeling on the soil outside. He pushed against the seat, then pulled, channeling the panic energy into a rhythm, a miserable rocking.

"All right, Keith," he said. "You got what you wanted. Everything stopped, so now what are you doing to do?" Push, pull, push, clench. Another awful sounding moan. What was he saying; nothing had stopped! Everything was still going on. The Galra were still just outside the atmosphere. The Green and Yellow lions were still fighting. Shiro was probably in the same predicament he was in. And Lance – where was Lance? Had he joined the Yellow lion in fighting? Had something awful happened to him? Was he ok?

"Red!" He growled again, hearing something in his voice that he did not like, crunching his knuckles between his helmet and the seat as he pressed his head down against them. "You gotta snap out of this. I need you –" he choked on the words, coughing. God, what was he doing? Why was his throat constricting like that? Why couldn't he stop it? He tried holding his breath, repeating denial. This is a closed system, sealed against the vacuum of space, and you're wearing your helmet. There is no possible way for dust to get in. None. It's all in your head; you're psyching yourself out. Knock it off and think! But then he coughed again, harder this time, and something gritty and gross shot up into his mouth from his lungs.

He gagged, revolted, barely taking the time to open his visor enough to spit it out quickly, not caring where it landed so long as it was off his tongue. He shoved his face against his arm, breathing raggedly. What was that? That wasn't in his head or a byproduct of low oxygen levels. He held his breath again so he wouldn't have to hear his own panting. You've got to calm down, he gave himself a lecture. You're wasting your air; you're focusing too much on the memory of this place. Yeah, but what the hell had he just coughed up? He felt his circulation speed increase. Maybe the dust was getting in. Maybe he was drowning.

Maybe he was already dead? Maybe in a few minutes he'd want to be.

Overwhelmed, he rolled to the side, stretching his body as far down as possible before releasing his grip on the pilot seat. As expected, he dropped to the back of the tilted cockpit. There was a sliding exit door under his feet, he could feel the slight indentation with the toe of his boot. There was room to pace here, which he began doing immediately, trying to find relief, trying to focus, one hand against the wall. Or was it the floor? He kept his head down and his eyes closed, shuffling over the door, one side to the other, and back again, thinking furiously, trying to keep his attention pinned on the resolution instead of the enormity of the problem. Trying to stifle the carnal sounds that kept threatening to rumble out of his chest. He'd hated it when Lance made sounds like that. He couldn't start doing it too. But he was so alone here.

"No! She's still with you," he reminded himself about Red. He paused a moment to put both hands against the wall, touching the forehead of his helmet against it too. It didn't feel that way. His connection to her had shut off as quickly as the darkness had settled into the cockpit. Like she was drained of quintessence already, like he wasn't even inside her. He could be anywhere right now. Their bond evaporated. But that wasn't true; it couldn't be. Lance said so.

Against his wishes, Keith thought back to the final moments of being in the canyon with Lance, when Blue had come to get them. Thought about what Lance had been telling Pidge as he'd been busy fighting Galra. She never left you. You're going to have to pull. But there was no way that Lance had pulled Blue. He'd been unconscious. He had no strength left. His voice was quiet, muttering nonsense, eyes closed, head hanging like a corpse.

A sense of urgency surged through Keith in a hot flash, muscles along his arms tightening against his will as they remembered holding on to Lance. He needed to get back out there. What was going on outside? His fingers closed into fists against the barrier of the wall, and he gave in to the urge to beat them against the metal, terror mounting in his heart as he noticed that even that sounded wrong. Stifled. Too tight. He coughed, allowing himself to sink to his knees, leaning against his lion. Drained. Was it actually harder to breathe in here than before or was that some other trick his mind was throwing at him?

"We sure as hell aren't dying down here," his memory told him, playing back the abrasively encouraging comments he'd given Lance before, desperate to remember the secret. "No one's dying." And yet, he couldn't think past the dark, couldn't wrangle his sparking, anxious mind into any kind of productive plan. Could not stop clearing his throat. How much air was left? It wasn't looking good for any of them.

"Red," he begged. "Please." He prostrated himself at the back of the cockpit, pulling off his helmet completely so he could rest his cheek against Red, the alloy cold against his skin, feeling his lungs stretch out in strange ways as he drew deeper and deeper breaths. How to reach her? How to pull like Lance had instructed when he couldn't find a hold? He saw Lance in his head, looking down into his bruised and bloody face in the canyon, felt his weight against his aching chest, heard himself telling him that he was a pilot, that Blue needed him. Don't give up.

"Don't you forget it," he'd said, almost violently. He tried to remember for himself. It was so hard to concentrate here in the dark.

"I am Red's Paladin," he began with the first unalterable truth, amazed at the rasp in his voice. How long had he been trapped in here? What happened to time when he was alone? Why did it always bend and warp? He exhaled. "We are the right arm of Voltron." He pushed back to the first time he'd ever actually believed that, when the idea of connecting with a sentient robot had become real to him, when he noticed that he had opened up to the possibility. It had taken Shiro's survival and return, Blue's awakening, a trip through a wormhole, and half a dozen other never-in-your-life occurrences before he'd even considered accepting it. And he'd been the last one. No surprise he was struggling so much to pick it up again now when the stakes were so high.

"You'll just know," Shiro had said, and the others had echoed. "You'll be able to feel it."

And he'd scoffed inside because feelings had never gotten him anywhere. The majority of them hurt, so he tried to keep as far away from them as possible and most of the time didn't recognize what they were as he experienced them. But Red. She wasn't pain. She was quiet, powerful acceptance. She was warmth and quicksilver, freedom and light even though right now she felt so cold under his cheek.

"Concentrate," Lance encouraged in afterthought.

Keith had always hated that instruction. It was so unspecific and came from so many sides. It had no starting or end point. There was no way to measure for progress. Still, that was the only place he had to start, and coming from the only person who had been able to succeed in calling his lion back from this planet. He'd have to try harder.

"We need to seek level," he told Red, then went as still as possible. He pressed so tightly against her that he could feel distinctly his heartbeat and breathing, but even these subconscious workings of his life systems seemed too big. They weren't going to merge by being physically close. He needed to go further in. They weren't connected at the heart or even in thought. It was their souls that met. The thing he needed to concentrate on was the quintessence. His. Hers. And the dormant dust that covered and threatened them. He removed his gloves to gain more sensitivity in his surroundings, positioning his fingertips against the metal, trying to connect. Trying not to rush, knowing if he did he'd just have to start over, losing more time he didn't have.

He imagined his quintessence the way he had once seen it contained on a Galra ship, golden, its own light source. Imagined it in the stripes of sunlight that had beamed down into the canyon, the tiny dust motes floating, part of the planet and the sun at the same time. Rivers and veins of gold that flowed all through him, around him, and out of him, pieces that he could breathe in and out like the dust, weightless enough to travel in a wave like light, sound, or heat but strong enough to power the sunrise.

"Let me in, girl," he encouraged, trying to put will into his words as he flattened himself against her, pushing his fingertips, his breath warming the alloy under his face, understanding spreading as he spoke. She was scared, so scared, trapped and closed. She had a tight hold on her quintessence, locking it to her to keep it from being tapped and stolen. He felt like he was trying to hold hands with someone who had their fingers clenched, pushing hard in order to help. "I get it, but if you don't open enough for me then we're lost. You're holding too tight. I know it's a risk, but you need to let me in so I can get us out of here. The others need our help, Red; I'm . . . running out of air. And I know you're scared; I am too, but we have to work together here. I am your paladin. I'm going to save you."

And there she was. A fragile give where he could slip through. He coughed, but felt the tightness in his chest open slightly, felt the streams of quintessence flowing, not as freely as they once had, but no longer completely restricted. He felt a rumbling beneath his body. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, hanging his head, feeling enormously vulnerable, her emotion and his. Still incredibly shaky and frightened. But no longer quite so alone. It almost felt as though he'd gained a second heartbeat.

"Red," he half gasped in relief, noticing how low his oxygen levels were. He rubbed his hands against her in circles, realizing that she was still struggling, that she had cut herself off from him for his own protection, and hers, that he had forced their connection open against her will. But this time he had to protect her. "Use me, Red," he encouraged. Whatever strength I've got; it's yours. He knew it wasn't much, wasn't anything. But even if they tried and failed, he'd rather die wrapped in her warmth than gasping for breath in the cold darkness. He thought again of Lance, feeling a twinge in his side. There were suddenly things he'd like to say to him. He hoped he was ok; he had to be ok. Because no one's going to die, he reminded himself. He'd already made that decision for all of them.

The rumbling grew stronger as Keith became abruptly lightheaded. He felt the pull on his spirit and steadied himself against her side. A brightness appeared beyond his closed eyelids as Red activated the dull auxiliary lights. Keith was able to see the shadowy cockpit for a moment before the lights went out again.

"It's ok, Red," he encouraged, faking the confidence they were going to need. "Try again." He began pulling on his gloves, but flinched to the side as something grainy splashed him in the face. With his remaining ungloved hand, he scrubbed across his forehead, fingers coming away unmistakably gritty. Dirt. He could hear it now, falling from the exit panel at the top of Red's head, from the walls, from any tiny crack in the cockpit, distressing little pings and pops of doom. He shoved his hand into the second glove and grabbed for the helmet on the floor at his feet. Time to get out of here.

He felt in his soul that Red was on the verge of retreating again. In opening herself to Keith, she'd left herself vulnerable to the planet too. And it had probably been waiting for that. The lights faded on, staying dim, revealing small piles and lines of dirt that had squirmed past her defenses. The entire cockpit shook with the strain of keeping it out, of being bombarded from the outside. Keith could see it falling, streaming down as if he were in the bottom of a huge, cracked hourglass. Inside his heart, Red trembled.

"Don't do it, Red," he commanded, suddenly understanding what Lance meant when he'd said they would have to pull. Keith searched inward, seeking the place inside his soul where his and her quintessence merged, wishing he could grab it and wrap it around his waist, anchor her to the dock on his belt as easily and securely as a length of Altean rope. His hands clenched involuntarily, attempting to hold something intangible. "Stay with me."

Keith looked up past the falling cascades of dirt, navigating the best way to get back to the pilot's seat from where he stood. He'd have to be quick about it; everything now was so tight and unsteady. The lights flickered and faded, Red shook and quivered, Keith's own lungs wouldn't cooperate, forcing him to cough. In frustration, he kicked at a pile of dirt growing rapidly at his feet, then cringed inside as the dust flew up in an impossible semi-sentient cloud. The red lights dulled and brightened almost like a pulse, and between the moments of vision, the dirt in the cockpit began to materialize into a somewhat recognizable shape. Keith tried to breathe evenly, maintain his control over his bond with Red, hoping she understood that it was too late now. The only way out was through. He willed her to open up more, draw enough of him into her to power herself out of the dirt where she could turn, where he could leap back into his seat. From this angle, he couldn't get back to the controls.

"Enough."

It was more a feeling than a word, the way Red communicated, but it boomed through the cockpit with enough force that Keith instinctively tucked, his fists near his ears. The shockwave of the instruction had stolen a beat of his heart.

"Red?" He checked as the lights dimmed, as his heart raced to make up for the missing beat. It hadn't been her; he knew that, but even though it had startled him so badly, he still wanted it to have been. But she remained silent, too guarded for talk. Blackness hit the cockpit, followed by the faint glow of the light. So hard to see past the on and off, past the swirling dust. It was giving him a headache. Keith tried to make another leap to somehow catch the pilot's seat and swing himself up.

"Don't fight."

And this time Keith really did hold still because those were actual words. He grounded himself immediately with both hands on Red, head down and preparing for something terrible. He was alone in this cockpit, he had to be, but he had heard a voice to the side, quite close. No, voices. Words that were barely discernible through the bruising rush of a mudslide. A rasp of sandpaper, something breaking, an old man speaking through a reeded instrument, a child whispering through sticky cupped hands against their mouth. The lights went down, the pauses between them growing longer.

"Red," Keith growled, unnerved, his voice catching hard in his throat. He crouched and made a jump, his fingers hitting the seat just barely. His neck muscles tightened, very purposefully keeping his face from turning toward his left. There was movement there, he could tell even without seeing it. He desperately didn't want to see it. Whatever it was could not be good. Closed system, he tried to convince himself. You're alone. But the presence was undeniable. Absolutely impossible for anything to be in here with you. Then what was over there? No, don't look! "One more time," he coaxed, backing up to see if a running start wouldn't help.

He felt the limits of the cockpit against his back and set his heel against the wall to use it for a push. He waited for the lights. Don't look left. The red glow began on the floor, and Keith launched himself forward only to collide with something dense and powerful that pushed him to the side, throwing him to the floor where he began coughing.

"I need you," the voices told him, as he recovered with his eyes on the dirt covered floor, furious and frightened at the same time. This was no longer something Keith could ignore. The lights brightened enough to see the lines of dust snaking around Keith, moving with a purpose, one entity now instead of individual grains. His flight response woke up with a vengeance as he regained his footing and lifted his gaze to see exactly what it was that should not have been able to get in.

Something hot and heavy hit his stomach at the same time his shoulders hit the barrier of the cockpit. A monster had joined him, a biological impossibility, not human, not Galra, not dust, somehow a mixture of all three. The red lights illuminated a semi-humanoid form, a disaster of a creation. A chimera pieced together of dirt and random body parts. Keith recognized a Galra tail and ear, one ear. There was a human leg and arm on one side, half of a Galra hand on the other. And most revoltingly of all – Lance's pure blue eyes and Keith's own jawline on the face. His eyes. It seemed like an inexperienced and childish god had tried and failed to put together an animal, had formed a shape out of clay and then stuck broken pieces of organic material to it.

"What the _hell_?" Keith groaned, disgusted, then noticed as the lights began to dim again that the tendrils of dirt that rooted all over the floor were twining up his ankles as he stood horrified by what was in here with him. He wrenched himself free, dashing to the other side of the enclosed space, scattering the dust as the creature opened its gruesome, muddy mouth and the lights went dark again.

Keith tried to stop panting, knowing he would hear and see better if he took his helmet off but also knowing it would be the worst possible thing to do. He was already having trouble breathing even with the protection of his helmet. But where was it? _What_ was it? What did it want? No, he knew what it wanted – it wanted to suck his quintessence like a vampire, that's what it wanted. How was he supposed to fight it? Why did it have Lance's _eyes_?

"Give her to me," the voices came through the rush of his bloodstream and terror. Keith choked on the dust, moving slightly around the outside of the cockpit, doing his best to keep as much distance between them as possible until he came up with a fighting strategy.

"Red!" Keith shouted. We need out; we need to escape right now! The lights tried to come on again, but only long enough for Keith to see the monstrosity with Lance's eyes bearing down on him, the entire cockpit flooded with blowing dust. Seized with the overwhelming urge to move, Keith surged toward it, hoping to use it as a potential vault to get himself into the pilot seat. He planted his foot somewhere in the indistinct midsection, shoving off the shoulders with both hands. But touching it proved a mistake. Instead of being solid, whatever it was sucked him down, like he'd jumped into quicksand. A trap.

"Stop," said the voices. He could actually hear Lance in the mix of it now. He writhed against it, using all his might to disengage, unable to move or breathe properly. Now what?

"Not happening," Keith yelled even as he squirmed, twisting his head away so he wouldn't be face to face with Lance's unnerving gaze. It was too disturbing. Why on earth were Lance's eyes on that face? He couldn't think of anything worse. "Get off me!"

"I need all of you," the wheezing dust told him with the voice that knew no age or true tone, slowly pulling Keith into itself. "My people, my children."

"What are you _talking about_? What the _hell are you!?_ " Keith demanded, unable to really get the upper hand, feeling himself sinking slowly into the mess, all his cells thrashing to be free, felt Red slipping away from him. "Red!"

"There's not enough," the voice went on, nonsensical, as if speaking were not something it was used to, as if thought did not move in a linear fashion for it. "What you've given me is not enough."

"I didn't give you anything," Keith protested, knowing he wasn't getting through, that there was no logic in the voice, that whatever held him might not be alive at all even though it somehow behaved that way. The cockpit filled with the sound of a rockslide and Keith's soul filled with borrowed emotion, a strange mixture of confusion and desperation. The entity that held him suddenly dragged images out of his memory and presented them at the forefront of his thoughts. He saw Lance's blood dripping into the dirt, saw the tiny wet patches near his boots where he tried to spit, his hands missing whole fingernails, and he suddenly understood what was going on.

"There's not enough." It was Mallea speaking, the planet's very soul, thinking that Keith and Lance had been trying to give it quintessence in shedding their DNA onto the soil. That it was using some of what it had already to manifest itself in this Frankenstein tragedy of a lifeform, puzzling together a mutant of the Galra soldiers it had already destroyed, Lance, and Keith himself. "They won't come back unless there is more. Give her to me."

It was seeking the catalyst it needed to reverse what the Galra had done, reanimate the dust into its former life. But Red had already explained that no matter if they were all sacrificed to the planet, it still would not work. And then they'd be dust with it, dormant, trapped forever.

"Oh no," Keith moaned, more to himself than anything. He strained to get away from Mallea, as far as he could with his arms sucked in almost to his shoulders, the dust vines covering his feet and wriggling up to his knees as he was slowly amalgamated into the dirt. The lights remained on, but continued to dim, fading slowly to darkness. Keith thought that if they went out this time they probably would not turn on again.

"It won't work," he tried, a last-ditch effort to reason with a creature that existed in a different plane than he did. He wasn't sure that it could even hear or understand completely what he said. But his mouth seemed to be the only thing he still had power to move. Come on, Red, his soul called out to her. If something's going to take my quintessence, I'd rather it be you. Take it all if you need it, but don't stay here and let this thing bridge through me to get to you. "This won't help you. Let me go; we can figure out a way, but not if you kill us first." He paused, gasping, as he felt dirt seeping into his uniform at his throat. He clenched his shoulder up to his ear as if that would stop it. His pulse became painful and tense.

"Let me go," he begged again.

"I need you all," it explained, making Keith sick. What did that mean? The others – had it already gotten to them? Was Keith the last one? He coughed, his chest aching, the strain of trying to get out exhausting him, the thought that his team was already lost quelling any will he had left to fight. Red was the last thing keeping him together, their hold on each other fraying at the edges, breaking strand by strand as Keith was pulled deeper into the soul of the planet, his quintessence draining out of him, his life and the light going quietly darker as he weakened. If he let go, what would happen? Would everything just stay black and quiet? What was on the other side of this nightmare?

"My children," Mallea repeated, its one focus and wish.

My team, Keith echoed in his head. Everything hurt now; it was as though he'd never left the planet that first time, that he was still just trapped here, that he would always be trapped here. Except this time he really would be all alone. Lance was likely gone already, and in a few moments, Keith knew he wouldn't have the strength to hang on to Red anymore either. Pull, Lance had told them, but Keith hadn't been able to do it long enough or hard enough to get out. Mallea pulled harder, an all-encompassing void. He tried to take a breath, even a shallow one. The oxygen in the cockpit was also exhausted, and Keith let his head fall to one side, nothing left in him to even squirm against the itchy, irritating streams of dirt invading any weak point of the uniform, assimilating him into dust.

"Red," he whimpered with the dregs of his energy, knowing it would be best for her now to cut ties with him, that maybe he shouldn't have forced her to open to him in the first place, and yet, he didn't want her to leave yet. He wanted her with him here at the end, for his last breaths. He didn't want to be alone. Red, you should leave me . .. but, please don't. Not until after. He thought of his friends – Shiro. Hunk. Pidge. And Lance. Would he ever see them again? His eyes stung now, dirt apparently entering into him from everywhere at once, making them water. Why? His heart wailed. Why had they even come to this place? Why hadn't they listened to him, made their escape while it was still available to them? It had all been so pointless.

Keith coughed and half-cried in the coming darkness, the whirlwind of dirt. If only they had paid attention when he'd said not to come back. If only Allura . . .

"Damn you, Allura," Keith wheezed, fury forcing the words out of him against the crushing pressure on his ribcage. But somehow it felt good, protective, better than just limply submitting to his own destruction. "You should have listened to me," Keith maintained, speaking to someone he would never see again. "If you hadn't been so stupid. You just can't save everyone." The red of the lights brightened outside his eyelids. Red still trying to come back online even though it was hopeless, still trying to save him. Most of Keith's quintessence had already been sucked out of him, becoming one with the lifeless dirt, the planet's insatiable need for energy. "You idiot," Keith grunted, each word a puncture in his lungs. "You can't save anyone."

He clung to Red and his rage now, just as he'd gripped tight to Lance in what he'd believed were his final moments in the canyon. Anything to keep him from acknowledging what was actually happening here. He could not bargain with the planet, could not break free of its hold, could not be a participant in his own death. So he held desperately to the tendrils of Red's quintessence, comforting still even though she was trembling, weak and terrified, and he held tight to his anger, letting it fill him completely, squeezing out any fear. Allura, he repeated, an incessant shout that banged inside his head as hard as his heartbeat. Why didn't you listen?

Red's quintessence suddenly solidified inside him, making him gasp. It was as though she had frantically grabbed tight to his wrist to yank him up and out of the dust. But not exactly. It was more like someone else had used that last thread of connection to join them deep in the earth, here in the last seconds. It wasn't Red holding him. Something bigger than that held on to them both, channeling strength and steadfastness. The lights flared up, brighter than ever, and Keith opened his eyes only to squint at the intensity.

"There you are," Allura said in his mind, her tone tearful in relief, the waterfall of her voice cleansing away the dust. "Keith, hold on."

The cockpit shuddered violently as it pressurized, the dash lights winking on all at once as Red gained enough power to activate. Keith found himself confused. What was going on? Where was the energy coming from? How was Red doing this? Allura?

"Stop," Mallea wailed, and Keith realized that he might make it out of this after all. He was going to beat this son of a bitch planet twice! The weight of its hold on him was loosening, the dirt dissolving off his limbs; he felt himself being pulled away, out of the mire. He looked at his captor, at Lance's stolen eyes, only to find them full of anguish and longing; something twisted inside him. "I need you."

Keith turned away as Red jerked herself forward, fighting against her own prison, both of them renewing the struggle for freedom. The cockpit tilted as Keith ripped himself finally away of Mallea's hold, feeling it crumble away from him as Keith's quintessence was pulled out of it. He made a leap against the shifting wall and kicked himself up, scrambling into the pilot's seat as Red flipped herself around. The display cleared; Red propelling upward and breaking through the crust that had kept them in darkness.

"Keith!" He heard his name called through his helmet radio, everyone shouting it at once. He took a deep, satisfying breath and jammed the lock shut on his seatbelt, reaching forward immediately to flip a switch on the panel in front of him. The one that would open the cockpit.

The doors released and created a wind tunnel of the space here in the open air; Red's velocity sweeping clean the dust. Mallea's spirit cried out as it was blown apart by the force, ripped to pieces and cast out to float as individual specks back to the dead surface of the planet. Keith pulled in to himself, clenching his stomach muscles, coughing as they rose higher and higher off the cursed soil. If his teammates were speaking to him now, he couldn't hear over the scream of the wind through the cockpit, over the bewildered triumph in his heart that he'd somehow made it out.

He kept the cockpit open until he'd gained enough elevation for it to be dangerous. He wanted it free of every speck. It was only when Red growled at him that he reversed the doors, closing himself in again. The bond they shared tightened as they climbed higher, speeding up to break through the atmosphere barrier.

"You ok, Red?" He asked her, breathless. "Close call back there."

She projected agreement, relief, and resolution. Keith wanted to take her for a couple laps around the planet, wanted to stare down at it from a safe distance and taunt it that it hadn't beaten him. He wanted to loop Red in a flare of resentment. She acknowledged his emotion, but did not share it. They were a little too human for her. She just wanted to get as far away as possible and join the rest of the team. Oh yeah, the team!

"Guys?" Keith called out, hoping for an explanation, pausing before he asked what happened so he could cough. One by one, lions appeared on his display, still frantically moving, still taking out Galra fighter ships as quickly as they could. The Green lion was there, fighting alongside the Yellow one. Shiro pulled the Black lion beside Keith, and a little ways off, there was Blue . . .struggling but still holding her own in the battle.

"You did it," Shiro congratulated and confused him. He'd done what? And what happened with the Green lion? How had it gotten free? What had he missed?

"What happened?" Keith asked, trying to catch up. "Is everyone ok?"

Instead of answering, Shiro shot forward against a fighter aiming for Keith, sending fiery pieces of debris showering over the dash. Keith shook his head, physically attempting to switch gears from where he'd been in quiet, still, and dark back into the battle at hand. If he wanted a discussion, it was going to have to wait.

"Are you?" Lance's voice echoed his last question back to him, the tiny query sinking hard into his chest, emphasizing the ache that hadn't fully left him yet. Time distorted around him, sparking, exploding, and Keith realized that he was surprised and overwhelmed to find himself still alive. He didn't trust his voice for a response; fortunately, he was interrupted from having to give one.

"Later," Shiro said authoritatively. "Let's get this finished first. Form Voltron!"

Oh hell yes, Keith thought, maneuvering Red into position on Black's right flank with Blue soaring in a rush behind him, quintessence plugging in to a center connection, all of them fusing as one – the polar opposite of the solitude he'd just come from. Power channeled through Red's controls up through Keith's spirit, so hard it was almost painful. They were all there, so close that he couldn't differentiate one from another, from his own soul. Adrenaline practically boiled in his blood stream; he felt the corners of his mouth lift in an unconscious smile for just an instant before he heard Hunk, just barely over the hum of his pulse, the roar of the assimilating process, innocently putting words into the system that chipped at the purity of what was happening, casting worry and doubt like a shadow.

"Hang on, Allura," he murmured. "It won't be long now."

What?

"Keith!" Shiro barked, electrocuting his attention. "Blazing Sword!"

The only way out is through, he told himself, forcing his concentration on one thing at a time, leaning over to twist and punch his bayard into the panel that would activate the weapon. But even though he believed that, his consciousness still pulsed incessantly with confusion and need. He needed to know what happened to Pidge, and Allura, needed to figure out what was going on with Lance, if anything was going on at all, needed to learn what Allura had done to herself to save him. Had she hurt herself pulling him out? Did he owe her his life? The thought made him thrust the bayard harder than necessary. The last thing he wanted was to be indebted to Allura. The last thing he wanted was for anything to happen to her because of it.

The tide of the battle turned as Voltron trust the sizzling energy sword into the first warship, tearing a fissure through it lengthwise from tip to tail. Far below, forgotten, the dust settled on the surface of Mallea.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Ok, I admit it; I've been waiting for this. I got myself into that battle and then had to get out of it so I could get to where I really wanted this story to go – right here. Smothered in all the emotions. I surprised myself on a number of levels. The characters wanted to go a different direction than I did, but that's ok. I like it. I hope you do too.**

Chapter Ten

It didn't take long once they were finally all together again. For Keith, time always seemed to stop while they were in that space, that union that was Voltron. Sometimes, he felt wrong about liking it so much; seeing as how whenever they needed Voltron something really horrible was happening, and yet, his soul was usually at its most peaceful submerged deep within the consciousness of the legendary defender. Today, however, today was not the same. He felt connected to his lion, connected to his team, but the physical space between them seemed too much right now. He still felt blind, as though he were trying to gauge his friends just from his sense of touch, with his gloves on. He wanted to see their faces, wanted to join with them in the castle instead of in spirit. For the first time, he wanted to disband and debrief.

Fortunately, there wasn't much fight left in the Galra after the first warship exploded. Shiro seemed to think that they hadn't expected any of the lions to resurface after touching ground on the planet and were unprepared for their return. No one ever kept count of how many fighters were lost in the battle, but plenty were left when the commander in charge ordered the retreat. They turned and swarmed away like locusts. Keith heard Pidge and Hunk cheer, felt his own emotions trying to stir into a sense of triumph or accomplishment, but this time there was only a bit of exhausted relief. Finally. Done. He tried to take a deep breath.

"Well done, team," Coran congratulated over the radio, the castle appearing like a new star in the periphery, particle barrier lowered. "Time to come in; let's get out of here."

Red loosened her hold on the other lions, splitting apart in order to return to her hangar in the castle, a process that felt to Keith like coming up into the cold after soaking in warm water, where his senses rearranged themselves to being a single unit instead of a whole. Things were dimmer, fuzzier, smaller. A little lonely, except for Red.

They returned to Red's place in the castle without consciously thinking about it; Red tired and Keith processing. Keith exited via her mouth then turned and rested against one of her enormous paws, not wanting to leave her alone, projecting his own need onto her. She felt different to him now. Closer. He owed her so much.

"You did it," he told her admiringly. "You got us out again." Such a dark, tight space. So close to giving up. She projected an emotion that was rather like patting him on the back, a warmth and pressure on his heart. "Will you be ok if I go?" Will I be ok if I leave you?

"You're with me no matter where you are," she assured him, feelings turning into words easier this time, as if Keith had picked up a second language, a souvenir of their ordeal. "Not so for the others. Go to them." You're worried about them, her soul pushed into his. They're worried about you. Go. See and touch. She didn't fully comprehend this requirement, that he would physically need to be in their presence to reassure himself even after they had just been joined in Voltron, but as always, she didn't judge him for being small, for being not like her. Keith leaned completely against her paw, as much of an embrace as was possible for a paladin and his enormous sentient robot.

"Thanks, Red," he told her in parting, lifting his palm from her in order to press it to his chest. She nudged his heart, prompting him out of the room, and he flew to the bridge where he knew the others were gathering, eager to see them, anxious to hear what had happened while he'd been lost.

His interlude with Red had put him a little behind the others, and the final door from the hangar bay opened to bustle. Coran was making concerned little squawking sounds, Pidge wide-eyed and quiet at his side, while Shiro made his way over to Hunk, who seemed to be just taking the first few steps from his hangar, Allura limp in his arms. Oh, Allura. Keith jerked on his heel to switch directions when he saw her, coming to Hunk's other side and placing his supportive hands underneath the Yellow Paladin's along with Shiro, all three of them bearing up the princess. Keith felt immediately guilty, remembering the tone of Allura's voice when she came to him in his lion. She looked so frail now. What had she done?

"Let me through," Coran demanded, beginning to shoulder past the clump of paladins, pressing to be at Allura's side. "Allura!"

"I'm all right," Allura murmured, not opening her eyes, the softness of her voice immediately quieting all quick motion in the room. Keith shifted, only slightly, to allow Coran physical access, feeling more than a little of Allura's weight transfer to the Altean. He noticed Shiro also giving way until they were just the honor guard on the sidelines – even Hunk let go, settling Allura on her feet, held up by Coran's tight grip around her waist and wrist as he pulled her arm over his shoulders. None of them took a step backward but stood ready in case the princess faltered, in case they needed to catch her. Keith felt someone's fingers close on his shoulder, but he couldn't tear his eyes off Allura. He discovered that he was still angry with her, except now for a completely different reason.

"So risky," Keith heard Coran fretting, and he nodded to himself. "You could have –"

"I know, Coran," Allura acknowledged, calmly and with sureness, looking at the ground now. "But it was the only way I could think of to get the Green lion away from the planet. The risk needed to be taken. I only wish . . . " she trailed off, her eyes misting, some of her strength collapsing into the despair of the unspoken wish. Keith could guess what it was. If she'd taken on the planet to pull the Green lion away, if she'd also used the power of her quintessence to lift him from its influence, it had been her last resort. Her initial intention, he was certain, would be to heal the planet, restore it to its natural, unbroken, pre-Galra state, as she had done before with the Balmera. But had she forgotten that when she did that she'd had an entire civilization helping her? That the Balmera was not drained completely as Mallea had been. And even then it had almost killed her. She needed to think these things through better. Sometimes, some things were beyond saving.

There were two hands on Keith now, a reassuring buzz near his ear. Someone was talking to him. Shiro, of course. "Relax," he was saying. "Fight's over. It's time to cool down." That's when he noticed how stiff he stood, how tight his jaw was, how hard he clenched his fists while glaring at Allura. How well Shiro could read him, even if he was mistaken about why Keith was acting this way. There had been a time when he'd needed verbal confirmation that violence was no longer required, that he could stand down. It wasn't that long ago, either, and Shiro remembered. He couldn't know that Red had already soothed the battle out of him, that this was something completely different. He wanted to reach over and shake Allura for being so stupid and reckless. He wanted to take her hand and bow over it to thank her for being exactly that, angry at himself that he'd made it necessary. He forced his hands loose, jerking his shoulders a little to let Shiro know he'd heard him.

"Room to rest," Coran was saying as Keith tuned back in. They were moving now; Coran gently guiding Allura off the bridge toward her quarters where she could recover, restore whatever quintessence she'd lost in the spiritual battle she'd fought with Mallea. Keith's hand twitched as they moved past him, but he couldn't think of anything to say to her, so he let himself step back, eyes down, feeling Shiro give him one last reassuring clench before joining on Allura's other side to help her walk. She'll be all right, Keith told himself, monitoring Shiro's smile as he looked at her, listening to Coran's continued mother-hen pecking as he breathed out his worry in a lecture all the way down the hall. If there were true danger, they would lead her in another direction. She wouldn't be awake and talking; Shiro wouldn't be smiling. He tried to breathe some of the calmness that was settling on the bridge. It's going to be ok.

"Keith, you good?" Hunk asked him as he stood transfixed, watching the door close, trying to reassure himself that everything was over now, not quite ready to believe it. "We thought we lost you back there."

"Yeah," he replied, automatically, not looking at his teammate right away until it dawned on him that he could finally hear what had gone on while he'd been buried in the dirt. "What happened?" He turned toward Hunk, noticing that Pidge was already in her normal seat, screen up, monitoring their surroundings for any straggling Galra ships, running a dataset in the background on who knew what, her world obviously returned to the normal she was comfortable in. He rather envied her ability to do that so quickly. "What did Allura do?"

"Oh, man, it was amazing," Hunk began to gush. "We were fighting, right, and she sort of went into this trance – all Altean mysterious and stuff – and she was talking, but not to us talking, but we could feel it –"

Pidge groaned a little ways off, making it clear that while her eyes were on her screens, she was still listening to what they were saying. It made Keith wonder if maybe she had to concentrate so hard on her program to keep the memories at bay. Maybe she wasn't as ok as she seemed. Had they seen it, too? That thing in the dark? Had it come after them? Keith's chest hurt, but he didn't know exactly why. He felt like he was still trapped underground, like something was wrong, like he should be moving. Maybe he did need Shiro to talk him down after all. He crossed his arms in front of him as he listened, trying to pin his attention down.

"And anyway, we all started pushing against it in our minds, like moving a mountain, or . . . what did it feel like to you, Pidge?" Hunk asked when his description fell short.

"Moving a mountain sounds accurate," Pidge concurred, her fingers slowing in their typing as she remembered. "At first, it was like holding up a ceiling that was falling in on us, but we started gaining ground when Lance showed up."

"Lance," Keith said out loud, realizing immediately why he was still feeling so weird. He scanned the bridge, finally noticing the absence of the Blue Paladin. How had he just detected this now? And how many times had it happened before?

"Say, where _is_ Lance, anyway?" Hunk mused, sounding way too calm about it. A huge dead weight settled hard in Keith's core, the not-right feeling turning to cement once he knew what it was. Despite his insides turning to stone, he found himself moving quickly enough, sprinting toward Blue's hangar, leaving Pidge and Hunk behind without a word. He'd known it, known ever since he came out of the healing pod that something wasn't right about Lance. Something wasn't right and they hadn't had time to fix it and no one was even paying attention and Lance was such an _idiot_ and now he was probably unconscious in Blue . . . or worse. But how much worse?

"Lance!" Keith shouted his concern ahead as he neared Blue's area. Come on, man, respond. How many more times was Lance going to do this to him? This ever-increasing sick feeling that came from wondering where he was, what had happened to him, if he were ok. A week ago, Keith hardly ever even noticed Lance, and now it seemed his entire world revolved around his well-being. He felt responsible for him. And the only reason he resented that was because Lance had suddenly made it his life's mission to mess with Keith's head.

Keith slowed upon entering Blue's hangar, mentally preparing himself for what he might find there, almost stopped when he saw Lance slumped on the floor between her paws, leaning his head against her, eyes closed, one of his hands resting at the back of his neck, the other loosely clasping his helmet on his lap. Keith felt his heart go out to him as he approached. He did not look good.

"Lance, hey," he said, warning him that he was there, knowing by this time that Lance's startle reflex could be a swing to his face. He went to his knees in front of Lance, reaching behind to cup a hand over his at the back of his neck. "I got you."

"Keith?" Lance said wearily and incredulously, and Keith felt himself steadied a little. It was always good to hear that Lance remembered his name. "Come on, don't." The hand under Keith's on Lance's neck raised, pushing him off, setting all his emotions adrift. Had he hurt him by touching him? Lance muttered something that Keith couldn't hear, making him lean in close.

"What?" Keith asked, studying Lance's face, worried that he wouldn't lift his gaze. "Did I hurt you? Can you . . . let me see your eyes."

"Oh my God, Keith," Lance grumbled, visibly tensing up.

"Just look at me, damn it!"

Blue growled at Keith's raised voice, but he ignored her; he couldn't help it. He just needed to see them, the real ones, not the copied mangled ones he'd seen on Mallea. Without thinking, he reached forward to take Lance's chin in his fingers, tipping it from where Lance had it tucked to his chest.

"Open your eyes, Lance!" Keith barked at him, keeping firm hold even as Lance tried to twist out of his hand. He pinned Lance down with his other hand on his shoulder, at war with himself about how he might be overreacting. But no, he didn't think so. Everyone else could ignore what was going on, but they hadn't been there. They hadn't seen Lance at his weakest, didn't understand the changes Keith could see in him now. They might not be paying attention, but he was, and he was not going to let Lance suffer now that they were still, now that they had a minute to figure it out. "Come on," he amended, trying to be gentler and not quite getting it.

Lance took a weird hitching breath, but at last he complied. Keith shifted their position until he had Lance's face between his palms, thumbs at the corners of his eyes, too close for comfort, but there was no such thing as personal space between them anymore. At least, not for Keith. Lance lifted a hand, hanging his fingers loosely on Keith's wrist.

"You happy now?" Lance asked, probably trying to be flippant, but Keith didn't buy it. He might be trying to hide, obviously struggling to keep eye contact, but he was wide open to Keith right now. The blue eyes were clear and deep and _hurting_. Lance could see, but he was definitely in pain.

"No," Keith grunted. How come Lance didn't understand that Keith took no enjoyment in his misery? "What's wrong? Can you stand up? Let's stand up. I'll help you to the med room." Coran was still helping Allura, but he'd probably be finished by the time Keith got Lance over there. Could he walk, though?

"Would you just go away?" Lance begged, both his hands on Keith's wrists now and shoving him weakly backward. His eyes teared up before he closed them again, shutting down completely, leaning his head against Blue. "Please."

Keith was taken aback momentarily before reminding himself that this wasn't really Lance talking here. The words were an artifact of some internal damage, a bruise, a broken neural pathway. Something they needed to fix, soon, since it seemed as though it kept getting worse the longer they left it alone. He just needed to persuade Lance back into a healing pod.

"Ok," Keith eased, for once in his life annoyed that communication wasn't a particular talent of his. "So, listen, um, I wasn't going to tell you this, but . . . earlier, when you fell into the canyon with Blue the first time - you hit your head, hard, and Coran said –"

"Leave me alone, Keith," Lance begged, tiredly.

"Yeah, I will," Keith agreed, though his soul brought up the last time Lance had asked this, how he had not meant it, at all. How he'd broken when he thought that Keith had actually done it. How Keith had promised himself that he'd never leave Lance alone again. "Just let me help you first."

"I really don't need your help."

"Hey, Keith, back off, man."

Keith jumped at Hunk's voice behind him, then bristled. When did he get here? And Pidge. She also appeared out of nowhere, tucking into Lance's side, her arms slipping around his chest. He tipped his head toward her when she began murmuring, her face against his breastplate, his face relaxing into relief. What the hell?

"Lance?" Keith began, feeling slighted.

"It's all right," Hunk assured him, physically pulling him to his feet and away from the Blue Paladin, placing himself as an immovable barrier between them. "We've got him."

"But," Keith protested, losing his grip on reality, leaning to maintain visual on Lance from around Hunk's back. They just didn't understand. No one was looking at Lance right. No one was _listening_.

"We've got him," Hunk said again, turning his attention away from Keith and bending down to help Lance off the floor. Keith watched, completely astonished, as Lance allowed himself to be lifted, then cradled between Hunk and Pidge, his face deliberately turned away from Keith.

"Give us some space," Pidge dismissed. But he didn't want to. He stood there, mouth agape, staring at the closed trio, and he wanted to fight someone. He was supposed to be there; he was Lance's support. He was the only one who really knew what was going on. A few hours ago, Pidge had been screaming profanity at him – how come no one was bringing that up? How come she was allowed to just touch him now? What had Keith done to deserve the shunning he was receiving here? Lance – what did I ever do to you?

And how come he was so mad about it? Since when did he care what Lance thought of him? What anyone thought of him. He was missing the point. It didn't matter who took Lance to the healing pods, provided he get there.

"Fine," he said stiffly, the ache in his chest magnifying as he said it. "I'll go find Coran. Meet you in the med room." Hunk and Pidge exchanged puzzled glances, but Keith had a mission now and he suddenly didn't want to look at them anymore. So he stalked out, hurting in a nondescript, unintelligible way. It's nothing personal, he told himself forcefully. You know he's not right; you know something's wrong with his head. You know he can't remember a thing about before. It has nothing to do with you. It didn't help; he was still pissed.

He fumed about it through the castle, focused so hard on what had just happened that when he lifted his head he discovered he'd been fury-marching the wrong way. It figured. He couldn't focus his thoughts either; the one question kept circling around. What had he done to make Lance hate him so much? There'd been hostility before they'd even been really introduced, like Lance had a grudge from a fight Keith hadn't even participated in. It had put him on the defensive, sure, but to be so antagonistic as to not even be able to look at him, come on.

And how come he couldn't see that Keith was just trying to help? That Keith was trying to be gentle, that he was worried about him, that he actually cared.

He stopped dead, looking around as if someone had caught him admitting that to himself. His arms crossed over his chest protectively as a chill of something he couldn't identify washed over him. Loss maybe? He was horrible at this, but his insides roiled all of a sudden like he was in danger. But that was stupid – he was alone in the castle hallway – cracked open and exposed in the way he hated the most. He dropped his arms, beginning to move again purposefully, forcefully, the way he needed to when things were getting overwhelming.

Despite the unexpected detour and pause, Coran remained at Allura's bedside by the time Keith knocked on the door. Well, sort of knocked. It still counted as knocking even if you did it while opening the door, right?

"Keith, what is it?" Coran asked, surprised, half standing. The room was soothingly dark, only a few faintly crystalline lights glowing; all four of the castle mice snuggled on the bed. Allura began to sit up at his unexpected arrival, but Coran put a hand out to stop her, almost pushing her forcefully back into her pillows. His face suggested that Keith had better have a very good reason for disturbing them.

"It's Lance," Keith revealed, gesturing behind him, toward the hallway. "He needs a healing pod; I need you to come with me to configure it."

"Lance?" Allura questioned quietly. The mice began to chitter. Coran looked doubtful; a look that Keith was starting to resent. Was he not going to believe him again? After all they'd been through today? Or yesterday or however long it had been since this started.

"I didn't know he'd been hurt," Coran said, standing fully now, but bending over Allura, the only one in the room who looked properly concerned. "I thought we'd made it out all right."

"Hunk and Pidge are helping him to the med room," Keith explained. "There's still something wrong, Coran . . . with his head, I think. He was on the floor." His eyes were closed; he wouldn't look at me. He's too damn quiet, and I hate it. More than when he wouldn't shut up, and if anything is going to be right about my life again then I really need you to make him normal. The level of pain in his eyes is not acceptable, and I don't know why no one else can see it, but it needs to be fixed. Now.

"Keith," Coran began, rather gently for someone not used to easing hard truths. Keith heard what he was going to say before he started. He'd already been told that there was a chance it wouldn't work. He already knew that if it could have been fixed by the healing pods, it would have been done. There wasn't a point to going another round, having another treatment. That's not how the pods work, he heard Coran lecture in his mind.

"There's something wrong," he repeated, uncompromisingly. Do not dismiss it. "Another scan won't hurt," he added, pleadingly. Coran looked on Allura for a long time before she nodded.

"All right then," Coran relented, finally taking a step backward from the bed. "You're right; no harm in checking."

Keith took his first easy breath in the past hour, pushing to open the door for Coran to exit first, grateful that he wasn't going to be ignored.

"Keith," the princess called from the shadows of her bed, just as he'd turned his shoulders to follow Coran to the hallway. He paused. "Please, won't you stay?"

"Um," Keith began, trying to find a good way of saying that he absolutely did not want to stay. Then he saw how Coran glared at him and knew that he was not leaving the room if Allura didn't want him to. "Sure," he relented, pretending it had been his choice. Whatever he had to do to make sure Coran went to help Lance. Besides, he thought bitterly as he began crossing the room to take Coran's place, it's not like Lance would want him there anyway.

The door closed as he reached the side of the bed, where he continued to stand as the mice settled down again, no stranger to awkward silences. Keith glanced at Allura, noticing the droop of her eyes, the tired slack in her mouth, the slight distress that she was stuck in bed when it was clear she needed to be up and defending the universe against the terror of the Galra dictatorship. Keith cleared his throat and looked away.

"Keith, I can't tell you how sorry I am." Oh no. The tears were in her voice again. Keith folded his arms, shifting uncomfortably on his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Forget it," he instructed callously, feeling conflicted about it.

"That's the one thing I cannot do," Allura protested, making Keith groan inwardly. He had a hard time wrapping his mind around Allura's sense of integrity, her self-imposed moral obligations to the cosmos. Like everything bad that happened was a direct result of her failure. "That poor planet."

"You mean the one that tried to kill us?" Keith clarified, trying to bring some perspective to her despair.

"That wasn't what it was trying to do," Allura countered, a slight bite cutting through the tears. Yes, that's better, Allura. He almost wanted to start an argument about it. "It was just trying to survive. If only I could have -"

"You can't save them all, Allura," Keith said flatly.

"I know that," she shot back. "That doesn't mean I shouldn't stop trying!" Her voice cracked; he felt her turn away, making him feel safe enough to steal another glance at her. He hadn't heard her sit up, but she was, one hand holding her blanket against her torso, the other supporting her on the mattress. The mice clustered around her fingers, giving whatever comfort a mouse is capable of. "Not that it's doing much good," she whispered, enlightening Keith suddenly to the fact that she might even ever think like that, like she ever had a moment of doubt.

"You know, the Galra have had the run of the universe for a long time now," Keith pointed out, annoyed by more than what he was saying. "What did you think? That you'd wake up, grab a bunch of misfits and have it all fixed by lunch?"

"Of course not," Allura protested, weakly. "But . . ."

"Then stop holding yourself to this impossible standard. You can do things I've never seen before, but there is only one of you. Red told me we'd basically have to sacrifice a sun to that planet to get enough energy to reverse what happened there. You would have killed yourself and still not succeeded, and then where would the universe be?"

Somewhere in his tirade, they'd made eye contact and held it, though Allura's gaze grew wider with every word, her mouth partly open. It made Keith falter, suddenly confused. Where was this even coming from? He plunked down in the chair that Coran had drawn close to the bed, resting his elbows on his knees, lowering his head.

"Keith," Allura said, in a tone so complex that Keith had no idea what he should think of it. Hopefully she was about to ask him to leave.

"I'm sorry," he replied, reflexively, though if she'd pressed him on why, he wouldn't have been able to tell her. It just seemed he'd verbally backed himself into a corner and his past told him that an apology would be the quickest way out. "It just seems stupid to die for nothing."

"Is that what you think? That what I did was for nothing?" Keith couldn't answer that. To be honest, he still wasn't quite sure what it was that she'd done. He just knew that she was responsible for Pidge having her lion back, for him not being turned into dust in the darkness with Red. "That doesn't seem fair, coming from you."

"I know you saved me," he allowed, trying not to flinch as she reached out to place her hand on his arm. "Thanks," he finished, knowing how pathetic it was.

"That's not what I meant; you saved yourself," she countered. "You were the one who thought to concentrate and reach out to me; you remembered that my life force was connected to the Red lion and you could use it as a direct line back to us. I didn't even know where to start looking for you."

Keith's mouth twisted in wonder and shame. He hadn't even thought of that; he'd just been furious and frightened. His rescue suddenly became that much more miraculous to him, knowing that it hadn't been a dedicated act on either of their parts. He relaxed his arm where she touched him.

"What I meant," Allura went on, "is I'm not the only one taking potentially fatal risks trying to save someone."

"Huh?" Keith didn't mean to vocalize his bewilderment, but it slipped out somehow anyway.

"Lance," Allura reminded him. "Don't you know how crazy that was to jump after him? You had no idea what was even down there, if you'd survive the fall. I daresay you didn't take even a second to think about it, and you came out of it in worse shape than I am. There's only one of you as well, you know."

Keith heard himself inhale slowly. He wasn't sure he liked where this conversation was going. He certainly didn't see it the same way she did. There wasn't really a comparison for him going after his teammate, someone he knew, someone they needed, and what she'd given of her quintessence to Mallea. Right?

"It's not the same thing," he argued. "We need Lance or we can't form Voltron."

"We all know that, but you're the only one who jumped."

"There wasn't any time," he defended, unsure how he'd become the focus of the lecture, why she was making a bigger deal out of this than it needed to be. It felt like she was trying to crack him open, the way he'd been before in the hall, alone. He did not like it.

"My point," Allura went on, softening. "Is that sometimes the need is greater than the risk. That's something I should have thought about before when you were both down there and I wasn't willing to come and get you. You were right then, and now, and I will be a better listener to you in the future. It looks as though we will need to help each other gauge that balance on when we should act in our own best interests or for others. I think we agree that sacrifice for the greater good is allowable only if we are sure that there will be a greater good come of the sacrifice."

"Greater good," Keith repeated, skeptical if it would always be clear what that would be, but glad that Allura seemed so certain about it. He didn't know why, because sometimes it made him angry, but there was a small comfort in feeling like Allura had the answers.

"Yes, exactly," Allura smiled, tiredly. "In my case, my all would have done nothing. At least your endeavor was worthwhile."

"I'm not so sure," Keith admitted, surprising himself in his openness. He hadn't actually done anything to save Lance; they'd already discussed this. And judging from how he'd looked the last time Keith had seen him, it was rather ambiguous on whether he'd been saved at all.

"What do you mean?" Allura asked, her helpful nature rising to the surface despite her exhaustion. She probably didn't even realize she was doing it again, pushing aside her need for rest to try and figure out a problem Keith wasn't even addressing properly himself.

A knock on Allura's door thankfully stopped the conversation; Hunk entering with a tray.

"Oh," he said, taking in the scene. Keith at the bed; Allura's hand still on his arm. Keith stood up immediately. "Hey, didn't mean to interrupt – thought you'd like some soup."

"It's ok," Keith said, relieved. "We're done." He slipped out from under Allura's fingers, moving toward the door. Hunk's presence here meant that whatever had happened in the med room was finished; Lance was safe in a healing pod. "How's Lance?"

"Yeah," Hunk said slowly, as if he didn't want to say. He busied himself by going to Allura, carefully setting the tray across her lap so as not to spill anything. "It's a little hot," he cautioned her while she beamed up at him affectionately.

"Thank you, Hunk," she said as Keith felt himself going invisible on the sidelines, getting impatient. How bad was it? What happened? Why wouldn't Hunk want to answer him?

"You bet," Hunk returned as Keith realized he was drumming his fingers on his bicep.

"Hunk," he quipped, sharply. "Lance?"

"I'll come back for the tray later," Hunk continued as if he hadn't heard a thing. By this time, Keith was fed up trying to get an answer. It was simple enough. If he were going to be ignored, he'd just go check on his own.

"Whatever," he huffed in annoyance, waving dismissively and turning toward the door.

"Hey! Keith!" Hunk called after him, as he stepped into the hallway. "Wait!"

"Nope," he said to himself, purposefully putting his foot down. Why wouldn't anyone tell him anything?

"Hold up!" Hunk puffed, chasing him down the corridor. Keith felt his nostrils flare as he took a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets. He paused, then attacked.

"Are you gonna answer me now?" Keith rounded on the Yellow paladin, worry making his voice harsh again. Hunk shuffled to a stop in front of him, his face nothing but pity. "How bad is it? Is Lance ok?"

"Dude, Lance is fine," Hunk said, which was, of course, a complete and total lie. Keith surprised them both by lashing out and grabbing a fistful of Hunk's shirt, twisting it hard.

"Don't give me that!" He shouted. "I saw him, remember? On the floor? Couldn't stand up by himself? I saw his eyes, Hunk; now, what happened to him? Where is he?"

"Calm down," Hunk instructed, plucking Keith off of him without seeming to exert any effort at all. "He's in his room, resting. Healing pod exhaustion is a thing, remember? We talked about this."

Keith mouthed the words in repeat. Healing pod exhaustion. What? No, that wasn't it. Had they even done a scan like he'd told them?

"No," he denied, still upset. "No, no, there's something else." Hunk was staring at him, studying, his mouth set in a funny way.

"We ran the scan; it came back clean," Hunk stated, infuriatingly. "Why are you so mad?"

"Because it's wrong!" Keith maintained. "He's _different_. His . . brain is still messed up. Can't you even tell? I thought you were friends!"

"He's not different," Hunk denied, and now Keith really wanted to hit him. How could he stand there and lie like that? Or was he really that dense? That imperceptive? Keith thought he missed a lot of subtleties most of the time, but to miss something like this? "But you are."

"Hunk," Keith spat out his name with the last of his patience, a warning.

Come with me," Hunk invited, then began walking before Keith could agree. Stewing, Keith sulked beside him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: So who was expecting Klance in this fic? Honestly, I wasn't. I'm all about bromances. They are my favorite. However, I'm not all that great at writing romance at the best of times, and when my lovers are boys and sullen and not good at talking to each other or recognizing emotions in themselves, it's really messing with me . . resulting in a somewhat messy chapter. Plus – sorry Keith . . . I didn't know that was going to happen to you. Surprised us both.**

Chapter Eleven

Hunk led Keith to his natural habitat, the kitchen, where it was warm, the scent of his latest culinary creation still present. This was not where Keith had thought they were going, and he was also surprised to see Pidge and Shiro already there, seated at the table, out of uniform, finishing their own bowls of soup. Keith closed up inside as he realized he was the last one again. Was he even part of this team?

But then Shiro stood to welcome him and he relaxed a little into the familiarity of the gesture. He didn't know about the rest of them, but he knew he could count on Shiro. He would listen to him. "Keith, where were you? Come sit down. You all right?"

"Yeah?" Keith answered, obediently taking the seat Shiro offered him, marveling at the concern. Why wouldn't he be all right?

"You scared us," Shiro told him, studying him hard, not convinced at his answer. "Red sank into the ground, and you were just gone."

"Wait – didn't the Black lion sink too?" Keith asked as Hunk appeared over his shoulder, reaching around to set down a bowl for him. This wasn't what he wanted to talk about, not even where he wanted to be, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.

"No," Shiro said. "The Black lion recovered from the ion blast after a few seconds, and we got off the ground as soon as we could. Then I couldn't find you." Keith heard the worry in the words. "What happened to you? How'd you make it out?"

Remembering that made Keith's throat feel way too tight to try and describe it. He didn't want to go back there. He guessed he was the only one who'd seen Mallea's soul try to manifest, the only one who'd been trapped with it. He gave an involuntary little shudder, then tried to hide it in a shrug.

"Allura," he murmured to the table, realizing his chest still hurt, hoping everyone would just accept that as the only answer they needed. They didn't have to know more than that, right? They wouldn't make him try to recount anything else; he didn't even think he could come up with the right words. He felt Shiro looking at him, and he knew that he was giving him all the signals that he was keeping something from him, that something was wrong. He also knew that Shiro would be the only one who wouldn't press him about it. At least not right now.

He twisted in his seat, uncomfortable from several directions, searching for Hunk who was putting together another tray near the stove, obviously for Lance.

"You sure you're ok?" Shiro asked him. "Aren't you hungry?" Keith shook his head; he didn't feel like putting anything in his mouth. He was having a hard enough time breathing, so he didn't think he'd be able to swallow.

"Not yet," he said, deliberately answering only one of the questions. "Hunk, you said the scan was clear?" He didn't want the big guy to forget that they weren't done talking about Lance; he wasn't going to be distracted by Shiro or soup or weird pressure in his lungs. He heard Pidge's spoon clink behind him.

"Keith, look, I promise," Hunk assured him again. "Why would I lie to you?"

"What's this about?" Shiro asked, obviously feeling as though he should be updated. "Keith, you needed a med scan?"

"Keith's worried about Lance," Pidge volunteered before Keith could say anything.

"What? Why? Where is he?" Shiro streamed his words together rapidly, and Keith felt rather vindicated. Finally. Someone was taking him seriously. "He did seem strange right before the battle; did something happen?" Yes! Thank you, Shiro. Now they were going to get somewhere.

Hunk was leaning against the counter, arms folded, frowning. Keith eyed him suspiciously, putting pressure with his fist against his breastplate. He may not be lying, but he was most definitely keeping something to himself. But why secrets? What did he think Keith was going to do?

"Lance is fine, Shiro," Pidge rolled the words around her mouth so easily, like she truly believed them. "Physically anyway."

"What's that mean?" Keith jerked around to glare at her so fast he made himself dizzy.

"Pidge," Hunk said warningly, causing her to shrug and gather up her dishes, rolling her eyes.

"What?" She said, a little snappishly. "You want to be stuck in this ship for the next deca-phoeb while they figure it out on their own? Because, I don't know if you remember when we ran them, but the statistics are _ridiculous_ –"

"Pidge," Hunk said again, pleading this time.

"Fine," she huffed, shoving rather than handing her bowl to Hunk, who looked relieved despite the violence. "I'll be on the bridge." But on her way out, she paused, softening, resting her hands on her hips.

"You're overreacting," she said, not looking at Keith, but he knew she was talking to him. He couldn't help it, though. Couldn't breathe; couldn't help it. What the hell did she mean? Statistics and figuring things out? "But I guess it's nice to see you do have feelings." Then she was gone. Keith closed his eyes, shivery with emotions he had no names for, not sure having feelings was actually all that great.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" He begged, gripping the table for stability, feeling like he'd returned from Mallea into an entire separate reality. He heard Hunk sigh, felt Shiro watching him with growing intensity.

"Ok, let's start here," Hunk muttered, as if steeling himself for another fight. "What makes you think we're lying to you about Lance?"

Ugh, really? He was going to make him say it? Keith lifted his eyes to Hunk, but caught Shiro looking at him the way he had the first time he'd come back from Mallea, right before he'd put him in a healing pod, scrutinizing and worried. He let his gaze return to the table; maybe that would make it easier.

"I don't think you're lying," he said, very simply. "But really? No one is noticing how he's so quiet? He's acting different, and when he came out of his lion, he really looked hurt. Why are you ignoring that?"

"I'm not ignoring it," Hunk explained to Keith's astonishment, then went on before Keith could confront him. "It's not new."

"What?" Keith breathed out the question, startled.

"Let's be honest," Hunk said, holding out his hand. "Do you know that Lance is really behaving different, or is it just that you only now started paying attention to him when he's not literally in your face?"

"What?" Keith said again, stupidly, feeling slow. And tired.

"Unless Lance is specifically trying to pick a fight with you, did you ever notice he was in the room before?" Hunk had both hands up now, fingers to thumbs, emphasizing his speech, which he'd slowed considerably. "Have you ever heard him say anything when he's not messing with you?"

"No," Keith sulked, feeling a little attacked and very confused. He hadn't paid any attention, to hardly any of them. He'd always considered himself alone; it was only just a few days ago where that had started to really bother him.

"Then how would you know if he's different or not?" Keith quelled his desire to snarl, forcing himself reluctantly to admit that this response was all his own fault. If he didn't feel like part of the team, there was only one person he could blame for that. "I've been with him for years, and I swear, he's the same. It's just you're actually looking at him now when he's not trying to get your attention." 

"My attention?" Keith asked, frustrated, making Hunk groan. "I thought he hated me."

"He doesn't hate you," he corrected, making Keith suspicious. Really? Then why all the insults? The taunting? The challenge? Why did he push him away when they were on the floor by his lion? What on earth would he want Keith's attention for? "Pidge is so right . . you're hopeless," he concluded softly, placing one of his palms on his forehead. Keith glared at him.

"Ok, but here's the real question," Hunk went on, his voice thick with the insinuation that what he was about to say should be so painfully obvious to Keith that he shouldn't really have to say it. "Why are you suddenly paying attention?"

This time Keith did let out a frustrated growl, but choked on it, coughing roughly into his elbow. He didn't know what Hunk was talking about, but it was getting really obnoxious. His head was starting to hurt, and he didn't like how they were looking at him. What did they want him to say? Confess that watching Lance die in the canyon was high on the list of things he never wanted to do again, so yeah, he was being super vigilant about him right now. He didn't want him to be hurt or alone or changed in any way, not if he could do something about it. Basically, he just wanted . . .

"Hunk, hang on a second," Shiro stepped in, for which Keith was grateful, until he switched his attention to something else Keith didn't want to talk about. "Keith, why are you still coughing? How much dust did you inhale while you were down there?"

Keith shrugged irritably against Shiro's hands, which he'd settled against his back and chest. There'd been dust everywhere, getting into places it shouldn't. The closed cockpit, through the seams of his suit, an invasive sentient parasite, where hadn't it gotten to him? He knew what Shiro was asking, monitoring him for the pneumonia the planet had triggered in him previously, but this wasn't like before. He'd kept his visor down. Well, no, he had taken his helmet off for a bit, but he'd only been exposed for . . . actually, he couldn't grasp exactly how long, but not anywhere near what it had been. His chest hurt, but not like it had the first time. At least, not yet.

"Come on," Shiro commanded, making decisions, placing a hand under Keith's arm to lift him up. "We can keep talking later. Let's go find Coran; get you checked out."

Keith stood, but pulled away from Shiro, resistant to another distraction. "I'm taking this to Lance first," he stalled, taking a few steps toward Hunk and snatching the tray off the counter, earning him skeptical, concerned looks from both of them. If Shiro was right, which Keith had to admit to himself he might be, then he wanted to see Lance one more time before they shut him up in a pod. Get things settled between them once and for all. The questions and uncertainty were killing him faster than any illness. "Then I'll go."

"Keith, I don't know," Hunk began, reaching for the tray himself. "I don't think Lance can –"

"I just want to check on him," Keith snapped, shifting himself slowly backward out of the kitchen, out of Hunk's reach. The Yellow paladin looked heavenward, taking an exaggerated breath before dropping his hands to his sides. "If what you've been telling me is true, I want to set some things straight."

"Or something," Hunk mumbled, almost unintelligibly.

"You think now is the only time for that?" Shiro asked, unconvinced. Keith stared at him, an expression on his face that he knew only Shiro could read. He knew he wasn't making sense, but this was still important to him. He was so tired of the secrets and the hostility. He wanted to know what was causing Lance's suffering if it wasn't an injury. He wanted to see him. Shiro sighed.

"Don't take too long," he commanded.

"And don't get him all worked up," Hunk lectured, salvaging what he could from an argument he'd barely fought.

"And we're doing the scan right after," Shiro added, looking stern, knowing full well how stubborn Keith could be about stuff like this.

"Ok," Keith agreed to everything, still backing up, trying not to cough again.

"He's going to kill me," he heard Hunk muttering as the door closed behind him, which didn't make any sense. But he was moving away from them now, walking as quickly as he dared with a bowlful of soup balanced on the tray. Feeling unbalanced anyway as he filtered through how everyone was acting toward him. If Lance wanted his attention, then why push him away? Why be such a jerk to him? If Lance wanted his attention, how had he not even noticed? Maybe he really was hopeless.

He almost walked past Lance's room, still thinking hard, feeling disoriented. He stood outside the door, fingers curled tight around the tray handles, thinking that maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe he should put the tray on the floor and go back to Shiro. His chest ached, and he knew Lance didn't want to see or talk to him right now. He'd told him very clearly to leave him alone. But why? No, if Pidge and Hunk weren't going to tell him, he was going to get his answers direct from Lance. It was better for the team and the mission if they had better communication. Plus he really needed to know what his problem was. The pain in his eyes had been real, even if everyone insisted he wasn't physically hurt. Something was going on, and he wanted to fix it. He cleared his throat and tapped the button alongside the door with his elbow to open it, his determination softening into stealth as darkness spilled into the hallway.

Keith entered Lance's room the same way he slipped through Galra ships, core engaged, slightly hunched, holding the tray as if it were a weapon. It was so quiet in here, so quiet that he could hear Lance's heavy breathing, the slow rhythm of sleep. He set the tray down on Lance's desk with the exaggerated care of someone letting go of a motion-sensitive explosive, then turned to study Lance in the bed. He hadn't made a plan for this. But then again, plans weren't always his strong suit. In his mind, he'd imagined Lance would be awake, or maybe he'd be on the floor again.

He took a step closer, his head tilting to one side, his arms crossing in front of him, just looking. It was clear that Hunk had tucked Lance in, they hadn't even bothered completely changing him out of uniform – the thermal undersuit covered Lance's arm that he'd pulled outside of the blankets. Keith felt his own breathing struggle to slow and deepen to match his teammate's. He did look better, peaceful, here. No bruises under his eyes, no blood on his lip. Pain no longer creased his brow. He looked healthy and beautiful. Like nothing bad had ever happened to him. Keith smiled in spite of himself. Maybe they were right. Maybe Lance really was ok.

He reached out, but then stopped when he realized he didn't really know what he was doing. What was he planning on doing? Smoothing Lance's hair? Touching his hand? His face? No way. If he touched him, he'd wake up and probably wouldn't be very happy to see Keith looming over his bed. But he still wanted to do it. He sort of wanted to just scoot Lance over and lie down next to him as they had in the canyon.

It was stupid, and he knew it, but there were things he missed about being with Lance down there. Touching him hadn't been an issue; it had been a necessity. No one had teased or messed with them. They hadn't really fought at all, and Keith had unknowingly opened a part of himself to Lance in order to ease his vulnerability that now he couldn't close. He also didn't know how to handle it being open. He wanted Lance to look at him, talk to him, touch him. He didn't think he'd ever need anything like that from anyone but Shiro, but now that he was here standing over the bed, he knew that everything had changed in him regarding how he thought about Lance. He leaned down so he could study him closer.

Something sharp and painful cut into Keith's left lung suddenly, causing him to wince and cover the area with his hand. That was new. Like a firecracker had just gone off in his chest. His throat twitched, but he couldn't cough. He wasn't as ready as he thought to talk to Lance, and this definitely was not how he wanted to start any conversation. He didn't want to wake him up, but he didn't want to leave him either. He just wanted to stand here, quiet, looking at him, listening to him calmly breathing, drawing a peace from his sleeping form in some sort of timeless state where they weren't yelling at each other, where Lance wasn't pushing him away. It seemed like everyone was against him doing that, keeping them separated, forcing them apart. Now his own body was going to start with him? Then pain erupted from his lung taking all his choices from him as he involuntarily vocalized his discomfort and dropped to the floor next to the bed. What was going on? What now? He rocked on his hand and knees, still pressing hard on his chest as he waited for the pain to ease, barely registering that there was movement above him on the bed. Lance was stirring. He'd have to get out of here. He'd have to stand up. He should have gone with Shiro, after all.

"Keith? What are you doing here?" Too late. He tried to lift his face up to look at Lance, but he couldn't. If anything, his body curled up tighter to the floor against his will. It felt like . . . like there was something clawing his lung from the inside. Actual scratching and tearing. Keith started taking tiny panting breaths to see if that would help. A draft went across his face as Lance quickly whipped his blankets off, dropping to his knees in front of Keith, gripping his shoulders. This was so far from anything Keith had intended when he'd come in here. "Hey, what's going on? Keith, what's wrong with you?"

He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. He was trying to melt his bones into the floor to loosen the pressure in his ribcage. His vision was going blurry; he couldn't move or answer, though he heard himself whimper through clenched teeth. What was this? Why did it hurt so much? Why couldn't he catch a break?

"Lights!" Lance yelled at the automated system, brightening the room. Keith had his eyes squeezed shut now, tensing against the pain, frantically trying to find a position of comfort. Exhaling didn't help. Inhaling did nothing. It was pain that did not respond to pressure. It felt like something was _crawling_ in there. He started coughing, excruciatingly, savagely, desperate to expel the irritant. "Geeze, Keith, you're still coughing? Hang on. Hey!" Lance raised his voice again. "Coran! Shiro! Help!"

Keith was drowning; shock making him shiver. What was happening to him? He felt as trapped as when he'd been sinking into Mallea, but worse. "Keith, can you?" But he couldn't. Whatever it was Lance wanted, he couldn't. He coughed and something wet and sticky splattered the back of his hand on the floor but brought absolutely zero relief. The next second more came up, covering his chin, dripping off onto the floor. "Whoa!" Lance said, his control over his nerves slipping in his voice. "That's . . .that's a lot of blood. That's so mu . . . _Hurry up, guys!_ "

How much? Keith thought, panicky, not able to open his eyes to see. How much blood? Why was he suddenly coughing up blood? Where was Shiro? The tearing, scrabbling sensation was shifting, moving up and centering, the pain moving with it, and presenting an even bigger problem as it entered a smaller area. He coughed again, freaking out as whatever it was suddenly lodged tight deep in his throat. _Something had just blocked his windpipe!_

"Keith," Lance continued to hover over him in a helpless frenzy, hands on his back or shoulder, constantly moving in search of some way to assist. "What are you doing? Did you just stop breathing?! Dude, breathe!" I can't! I'm trying! Keith screamed internally, both his hands clawing at his own throat. The cause of his distress also clawing, still shifting as if it had thousands of little talons, each trying to find a hold against the slippery lining of Keith's trachea. "What are you even choking on?" Lance demanded fierce and frightened, way too loud. He slammed the heel of his hand against Keith's back, which didn't help.

"Think, McLain," Lance talked to himself as Keith fought to breathe, to stay conscious. This was not how he'd imagined dying, suffocating on a bedroom floor, Lance's bedroom floor, in who knew what galaxy. After all he'd been through, it seemed insulting. His irritated lungs began to burn, signaling their need for air. Lance was pulling on him. "Abdominal thrusts," he was saying. "Keith, you need to lie on your back. Can you even hear me? Keith!"

But that wasn't necessary. The blockage in Keith was moving on its own, struggling to get out. Before Lance could pull him down, the unmistakable sensation of tiny legs pulled closer to the wider space at the back of Keith's throat, allowing him to once again cough, this time with enough force to finally push it all the way out. Something _frantically wriggling_ hit his tongue and scampered toward the roof of his mouth, triggering his gag reflex with such severity that he was very, very glad he hadn't touched Hunk's soup. He dimly heard Lance screaming in the background as he retched . . . a huge, iridescent, blood-covered beetle onto the floor.

"What the _hell?!_ " Lance shrieked as the insect began skittering away, trying to find a hiding place.

"Cat . . catch it," Keith gulped, his voice torn to shreds, his whole body going limp. God, air was fantastic. So, so good. Now if only he could stop twitching.

"Keith!" Lance yelled as his eyes rolled back. He didn't even feel it when his head hit the floor.

His fight response woke up before he did, his hands uncontrollably tearing at his body, sweeping it clean of the insects he felt certain were crawling all over him. All the thousands of legs prickling over his skin, digging at him under his clothes. He moaned in disgust.

"Easy! Take it easy," Shiro's voice filtered in to his consciousness. "You're all right. Nothing's on you." Insect legs turned to guiding hands as he was pulled from the healing pod and seated on the stairs in front of it. Safe but disoriented. He hesitantly opened his eyes, testing what Shiro had told him, seeing nothing but the clean white healing suit, his own trembling hands. He lifted his head slowly, taking stock of his surroundings, trying to remember what happened to him, how he'd gotten here. It was very bright.

Someone put a blanket over his shoulders as he hunched over his knees, panting on the steps. His lungs were fine, clear after the healing pod. His breathing rang loud in his ears, blocking all other sound.

"Anyone," he said, then had to shake his head hard to clear it as the word reverberated through his skull, the way sound moves sometimes when his ears were clogged. "Anyone going to fill me in?"

"Keith, look at me," Shiro commanded and immediately focused Keith's struggling attention. "Yeah, that's better. There you are. Can you hear me now?"

"Shiro," Keith said, making and keeping eye contact, wondering how long Shiro had been talking to him before. "What happened to me?"

Shiro looked away momentarily, having a silent conversation with someone else in the room. Keith followed his eyes to find himself surrounded by the entire team. How long had he been asleep?

"You inhaled a bug," Pidge explained, stepping slightly forward from the group. "I mean, sort of. We actually think you made it . . . or animated it?"

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Keith said testily, voice raising.

"Keep calm," Shiro instructed, putting a hand on Keith's shoulder. "We aren't sure, but Pidge thinks that the dust you inhaled in Mallea used your quintessence somehow to gather together and . . . reanimate."

"Like a host," Pidge put in helpfully, except Keith hardly ever understood her when she was spouting scientific slang. "Or an incubator? You like . . . hatched a beetle, Keith!"

"Where is it?" Keith asked, remembering the brilliantly colored insect that he'd spit out of his mouth before he blacked out. "Did you catch it?" He heard Hunk snicker from his side as Pidge produced a transparent beaker-shaped unit from her backpack. She handed it to him, but he didn't take it from her, forcing her to hold it out awkwardly until she realized he was not going to touch it. She set it on the ground in front of him instead.

Scuttling around inside was the beetle. Pidge had somehow cleaned the blood off it so it now gleamed purple, green, and jet black. It had more legs than an Earth beetle, and watching it made Keith unconsciously start scratching lightly at his neck as the memory of its presence there starting manifesting with physical sensation.

"That's gross," he said, turning away.

"Yeah," Pidge agreed, eyes gleaming and voice eager. "But _such_ a great specimen to figure out the whole Mallea puzzle."

"Such a tragic waste of soup, though," Hunk lamented beside Keith.

"Well, what _else_ did I have to catch it with?" Lance's voice huffed from somewhere behind the rest of them. Hunk snickered again.

"What happened?" Keith asked, looking at each of their faces in turn. Their calm, amused expressions that had shared a joke without him. Something he wanted to be part of, something that wasn't dark or choking him. Hunk was laughing too hard to talk now, face close to Keith's as he doubled over. Keith smiled unconsciously, though he felt inexplicably worried.

"We . . . ," Hunk wheezed, but absolutely couldn't talk for laughing. "When we got to the room. . ."

"Oh, shut up," Lance scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets and blushing, trying hard not to smile too.

"We were coming to help," Pidge said, not doing much better talking over her laughter than Hunk. "And the door opened, and Lance was . . . ."

Between intense laughing fits, they told Keith how they'd found them. Keith unconscious on the floor, covered in Hunk's soup because Lance had just grabbed the first thing he could lay his hands on that might catch a quick-moving insect and had spilled it everywhere.

"And he just kept yelling, 'Shut the door! Shut it! Where'd it go?'" Pidge mimicked, holding her sides. "From on top of the bed like those dumb cartoons where women leap on chairs because they saw a mouse. . . . holding the bowl and eyes going everywhere."

Shiro had apparently closed the door tight behind them, going immediately to tend to Keith, when Lance made a flying jump off the bed and slammed the bowl onto the floor. Keith guessed he could see why that would have looked funny; they'd all missed the first part, where he'd been asphyxiating to death. They'd missed all the danger.

"What are you going to do with it?" He asked, his nose wrinkling as he tried not to look at what might have been his murderer, though he could hear its awful legs ticking against the sides of the container.

"Study it," Pidge managed, calming down. "See how it did what it did. See if we can't work something similar to restore the whole planet." Keith locked eyes with her, horrified.

"No, you can't," he said, seriously, breathing speeding up.

"Relax, Keith," Allura spoke, breaking from the group. He couldn't remember if she'd been there from the start or if she'd come in later, unnoticed. "We will not be returning to Mallea anytime soon."

"Or never," Keith shot back, making Shiro pat him reassuringly.

"Anyway, it's time you got some rest," Shiro changed the subject. "While you can." He helped Keith to stand as Pidge collected the beetle from the floor, safely putting it back in her bag.

"I'll take him," Lance volunteered, softly, hands still in his pockets, expression dedicatedly neutral. Keith didn't miss the look Hunk and Pidge gave each other before they hurriedly slipped out of the room. Shiro stood still, deliberating, before nodding consent and stepping away, towards Allura. Keith waited obediently as Lance walked over to him, watching him intently as he moved, appreciating how someone as tall as Lance could move so lightly.

"Well? Come on, mullet," Lance said, nodding toward the door, walking with the expectation that Keith would follow. Still with the blanket over his shoulders, Keith trailed after Lance, catching up to walk beside him with his head down.

"Dude, I thought you were going to die," Lance began heatedly before they had gone very far.

"I thought the same thing," Keith admitted.

"What were you doing in my room?" Lance asked immediately afterward. Keith pulled the blanket around himself as a shield.

"Hunk had me bring you soup," Keith offered as an excuse. "I was seeing if you were awake when . . . when -"

"When you scared the shit out of me?"

Keith stopped talking, but he was thinking of a lot he wanted to say. How Lance had scared the shit out of him first. Over and over again. From the very first fall into the canyon and practically every second afterward.

"Here's your room," Lance pointed out, opening the door for him. What? Already? Keith took a step inside, but turned to look back at Lance. He wasn't going to leave him yet, was he? The blue eyes were full of hurt again, a strange expression in the twist of Lance's mouth. "Get some rest," Lance said, turning to go. Keith felt his soul sort of sinking, slipping away from him, making him feel cold and lost. He didn't want to be alone, didn't want Lance to leave him, didn't even want to rest. He reached out before making a decision about it, grabbing Lance's wrist, stopping him.

"This again?" Lance asked him, softly, but paused as he turned to look at Keith. "Keith, what's the deal?" Keith shrugged, unable to say anything. Lance sighed. "You want me to stay with you a while?" He offered. Keith nodded.

 **Author's Note: Oh my goodness, these boys. They are . . really hard to get together while keeping them somewhat in character. They need Strong External Forces to help them get over that huge hurdle of "But what if he doesn't feel the same for me as I feel for him?" or the other hurdle (Keith, you dunce!) of "what am I feeling anyway?"**

 **If it's killing you . . .I'm sorry. It's KILLING me too. The next chapter will finish it for us. I'm anticipating a lot of fluff and cuddling. Perhaps even some talking (eh, kids? You can talk together and actually say something? Hmm?) And hopefully Pidge can do something brilliant because as much as I never expected the Planet to be a character in this . . I sort of feel obligated to not leave her like that. (I blame Allura.)**

 **To those of you who are still reading – thank you. It makes my day when I see that someone out there is still devoted to this fic, despite the long waits between chapters. You're the best of sports and I love you.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I polished this chapter shinier than any of the others. It was so delicate, and I struggled with it a lot. I've been writing Voltron fanfiction since I was twelve years old, and this is a first for me. I've done so much with Keith and Lance. Killed them. Married them – to female partners, given them siblings, hurt them, healed them. I even broke the fourth wall and let myself go ice skating with Lance once (it was his idea), but this is something I've never done. If there are any of you readers who may have an issue with Keith and Lance being together, cuddling, kissing – this isn't your chapter. I found it oddly satisfying, like they've been wanting to for a long time. Enjoy.**

Chapter Twelve

Keith rather liked keeping hold of Lance, feeling his pulse under his fingers, a steadying rhythm, so it didn't enter his mind to let go as he semi-pulled him into his room. It also didn't enter his mind what to do with him once they were both through the doorway. He'd been fighting for this opportunity for so long now that he wasn't prepared to actually have it. So many questions had tangled up in his mind that now he'd forgotten which one he wanted to start with.

"So, uh," Lance broke the silence first, hand hanging limply from where Keith still gripped his wrist. "Do you want to change or are you going to sleep in what you've got on?"

Keith gave himself a once over, remembering he was still wearing the white healing pod one-piece, shoulders draped with a blanket.

"I don't need to sleep," he answered, letting Lance go so he could grab his regular clothes. He did want to wear them. The healing suit was too close to naked, and he already felt ridiculously exposed to Lance already.

"Of course you don't," Lance sighed, rolling his eyes a little, pretending he hadn't done it by shifting into a study of Keith's rather barren room. Keith stepped away to change as quickly as he could, afraid Lance would leave if he were gone too long. "But you should!" Lance called after him.

"You're going to lecture me?" Keith heard himself say before he could stop himself, falling reflexively into the routine of their normal speech patterns now that he wasn't looking directly at him. "Last time I looked, you were the one pushing so hard you couldn't even walk."

"We were _under attack_!" Lance protested, and Keith smiled as he pulled his shirt over his head. This was better. So much better. "You guys _needed_ me out there." The smile faded as Keith remembered the attack, how Lance had stayed behind in the castle with Blue, how he'd sounded like he was crying. This wasn't better, it was familiar, and that wasn't the same thing. He couldn't let them go back to the way they were before. Not after what they'd been through. He needed to know which Lance was real – this one bantering with him or the boy in the canyon making the loneliest sound in space.

"You shouldn't have been out there," Keith said, mostly to himself, standing out of sight with his jacket in his hands. The team should have listened to him. He should have been faster. If he'd been better at convincing them, at eradicating the Galra threat with Shiro, then Lance would never have had to stretch himself to his limits like that. Keith should have protected him better.

"Look, hotshot," Lance huffed, immediately annoyed, surprising Keith. "I know you think I'm just a cargo pilot, but –"

"That's not what I meant!" Keith shouted over top of him, grasping that Lance had misinterpreted what he'd just said, that he'd taken it as an attack on his ability to pilot a lion. I'm not meant to be a Paladin, he'd said in the canyon, like he'd actually believed it. Maybe he really did.

"Sure," Lance fizzled out, and Keith finished dressing in a hurry because he could hear him turning toward the door to leave. How did they always end up like this? How was Keith supposed to fix it when he had no idea what he was doing wrong?

"Lance, wait," Keith said, then struggled with how to phrase anything else. Lance was touchy, and he always took Keith's words the wrong way. He was standing with his back toward Keith, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched forward protectively. "Why do you do that?" Keith asked.

"Do what?" Lance asked, but softer now. Kind of sad.

"You make me the bad guy," Keith diagnosed, rather subconsciously. He heard himself saying the words, but he was mostly focused on the slope of Lance's shoulder and the angle of his elbows, doubt forming in his mind again as to whether or not Lance were ok. "You put words in my mouth I never said, and you tell me I think things about you that I really don't, and it's like I'm standing in for every person who has ever said anything bad about you but none of them were actually me."

"That's . . . not true," Lance said, even quieter, not sounding particularly sure about it.

"Then tell me what I did," Keith demanded, needing Lance to say it because he just couldn't think of what it could be. "What did I do to you?"

Lance's hands moved from his pockets to curl around his ribcage, still turned away from Keith, which he didn't like. Worried that he'd break him somehow if he touched him, Keith moved around him instead, blocking him from the door, forcing them to stand face to face. The way they'd stood and moved along the canyon floor except this time they could both see. For Keith's part, what he saw concerned him. It's not new, Hunk said about Lance looking like he was hurting. But why?

"Lance?" Keith checked him, ducking his head to try and get Lance to make eye contact with him, wishing he hadn't asked him anything now that he'd seen what it had done to their dynamic. They did a med scan. It came back clear. He was overreacting. And still.

"Nothing," Lance said, very quickly, his voice tight, doing everything he could to avoid looking at him. "Ok? You didn't do anything. You're quiznaking perfect, all right?"

"No," Keith denied, finally reaching forward to grab Lance's arms as if that would force the truth out of him, discovering with the contact that Lance was actually shaking. What was going on? Why was he so upset? "I don't understand. Hunk said you're trying to get my attention –"

"I'm going to kill him," Lance muttered savagely under his breath, eyes on the floor, his features a study in misery and humiliation.

"Well, here it is; you have it," Keith went on as if he hadn't heard that, really wanting to break through whatever was holding Lance back from talking to him. He tightened his grip, giving Lance a slight jerk to make a point. "Talk to me."

Lance finally looked at him, thankfully only for a moment; the exchange was too much for both of them. There were tears in his eyes; they were brimming with pain. How could the scan have found nothing to cause this? "Keith," Lance begged, but Keith didn't know what he was begging for. Keith anxiously pushed him backward, forcing him to sit on his bed. How could they all tell him he was overreacting? How could they say that this was normal behavior? How could they protest that everything was fine? How did he not see it before?

"You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything," Keith said, worried, watching Lance curl up and close down. He should have known. Everyone was always telling him he was too abrupt, too abrasive, and he'd pushed too far on this when he should have been paying attention to something else. He'd have to figure out Lance's hostility toward him another time, when he was healed. If he could be completely healed. "Lance, what is it? What hurts? Should I call someone?"

He knelt down on the floor in front of him, one hand resting on Lance's knee, the other reaching up to cover the back of Lance's neck, the place he'd damaged in his fall. Lance covered his mouth and closed his eyes, all his muscles rigid.

"No," Lance managed, sounding muffled behind his palm. "It's fine. Let me go; you're the one who should be resting."

"Don't be stupid," Keith said, then regretted it as he watched Lance flinch. "You're not fine," he said, trying to be gentle. "I need to know what's going on with you. We're going to fix it, but you need to work with me. Tell me what's wrong."

"What do you care?" Lance almost whispered, and Keith did his very best not to clench his fists, remembering at the last second that digging his fingers into the pressure points on Lance's leg and neck would be extremely counterproductive to his motives. He shifted that impulse into scooting closer to Lance.

"Because I do," he answered, unsatisfactorily, then decided that Allura was right. He needed to tell Lance all of it. Maybe if he heard more of what had happened to him in the canyon, he'd be more receptive to letting someone help him now. He just needed all of the details – well, no, maybe not all of them, but he should know something. "Listen," he started. "You don't remember, but when you fell –"

"I remember, Keith," Lance interrupted, struggling to get the words out.

"You . . do?" Keith paused, trying to process that. "How?"

"Blue," Lance responded. "She . . .she helped me get those memories back. Gave me some of hers too, kind of all at once. That's why I wasn't with you when you went out to fight – there was just so . . much, so fast. I – I watched you . . . digging, and . . . I saw you find me. And . . . all the rest of it." He sounded like he wanted to talk about this, but he wasn't sure about it. Like he wanted Keith to say something first, had been waiting for that.

"Oh," Keith heard himself breathe out. Was that why Lance was being like this? Why he didn't want Keith near him anymore? Because he remembered how Keith had failed to help him down there? If that were the case, Keith couldn't really blame him. Still, even though he hadn't been able to help him there, that didn't mean he couldn't help him now. He was extremely willing to make up for what he hadn't done.

"Why, Keith?" He heard Lance ask as if his life depended on it, as if he'd been wanting to ask for a long time, but Keith didn't understand the question. "Why'd you do it?"

"Because," Keith started, then faltered. Words. Sometimes he really hated them. Why was Lance even asking this? Why weren't they focusing on the real problem? "Because you're part of this team. We need you."

Lance nodded methodically, as if he'd expected no less, but still looked disappointed. Still looked hurt. Keith felt desperate about easing that, increasingly helpless that even if he could, Lance wouldn't let him. He just wanted them to be . . . but he didn't know how to get there, and it seemed Lance was retreating again.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Lance said, and Keith felt the muscles in Lance's thigh shift as he prepared to stand. No, not yet. They weren't done yet. Keith pressed firmly against Lance's knee to keep him seated, curling his fingers around the base of his neck. He lifted up on his own knees higher, touching his forehead to Lance's as his head hung down. Physically, he's fine. That's what Pidge said, which was rather a shame since Keith knew exactly what to do for bleeding limbs but was at a complete loss when it came to bleeding hearts. If that was even the issue here; Keith wondered, full of increasing doubt and desire.

"Don't leave," Keith pleaded. Don't hide from me.

"What the hell, Keith?" Lance whispered, but couldn't pull back against the pressure Keith had on his neck.

"I don't know," Keith admitted. "I don't know what's going on, or why you won't talk to me. I don't know what I did, and I don't know how to fix it."

"Keith, please don't," Lance said as he squirmed under Keith's touch. "There's nothing to fix."

"But there is, and I want to," Keith continued quickly, not ready to be interrupted. He felt if someone stopped him now it would be like the rock slides in the canyon, burying something in him forever. He had to keep going. "I want to fix it, Lance. And they can tell me I'm overreacting all they want, but you're in pain, and I can see it now, and I can't stand it. I'm not going to fail you again."

Lance was crying now. Honestly crying, but trying hard not to, trying to twist away from Keith so he wouldn't see. Keith watched his chest punch in and out as he kept it as quiet as possible, but they were too close for Keith not to notice. He could feel how tight Lance had pulled in to himself; how he trembled. What on earth was wrong with him? Why wouldn't he just say something?

"Please talk to me," Keith begged. "What's wrong?"

A sound escaped Lance, not words, just that sound. The one Keith never wanted to hear again. The lonely, agonized, awful cry. The sound Keith imagined souls make when they are truly lost. The sound Lance made when he'd given himself up for dead. It made him frantic. He jumped up, placing both hands on either side of Lance's face, bending over him protectively.

"Don't," he commanded. "Don't. God, what _is it?_ Please don't." He wasn't. He'd stopped, cut the cry off almost immediately, but Keith couldn't get over it. How he was in that place again. What was going on in his head? Keith sat down next to Lance, throwing an arm around his hunched shoulders, reaching around to place his other hand firmly against his chest, putting pressure on him as he'd done before, trying to hold him together. "Let me help," he kept asking as Lance did his best to get under control, pulling away from Keith.

"Tell me what to do," Keith beseeched, holding on tight, tucking his head against Lance's temple to temple. It still wasn't close enough.

"Let me leave," Lance said, haltingly, completely embarrassed.

"Not until I know you're ok," Keith combated, another memory of the canyon coming to him. How Lance had told him to leave, had told him he wanted him to leave, but he'd actually been terrified to be left alone. "I'm staying with you, Lance."

"Why?" Lance demanded again, finally winning some control over himself, his voice hardening around the word. Keith wished he knew the right answer.

"Because you're my –" Keith paused, unsure what Lance was or how to articulate where they were together. Teammate was right, but not enough. Friend was something he'd never said out loud and it wasn't quite right either. Lance was mostly the reason he smiled anymore, the reason he could still have fun. Lance was his responsibility, one that he had taken on the moment he'd jumped out of Red to save him. Lance was his mystery and his relief, his strength and challenge. But he didn't quite know how to say that properly. If only they could talk like he did with Red, no words, just images and emotion. "Because you're mine," he decided, rather fiercely, pulling him tighter.

"That's not funny, Keith," Lance said quietly, breathing in that strange way that happens when you've just stopped crying but not all the way, when you've drained your psyche and are left with an emptiness. As if he'd resigned himself to misery. He sat limply in Keith's arms, not moving closer but no longer pulling away.

"I know," Keith agreed. It wasn't funny. It was overwhelming and troubling. Feelings he had no names for that were almost too strong.

Lance gave a strangled half-sigh, "And what's that mean exactly?" He asked, quiet again, and Keith didn't know that either. He'd never been in this place before and felt himself slip into what usually worked for him. The Red Paladin relies on instinct. It was the only thing he had left available to him now as the situation felt so delicate and final. So he shrugged rather helplessly, and maneuvered their position so he could tip Lance's chin up, so he could look him in the eyes, see if he could find any clue as to what to do there. They were still wet, shining, questioning, full of doubt now as well as pain and surprisingly. . . hope? Want? Something deep and struggling – as vast as the universe and just as full of the unknown.

"You have the prettiest damn eyes," Keith said, unreservedly, sidetracked, forgetting the question he was supposed to be answering, causing Lance to promptly close them.

"Stop it," Lance said, sounding rather hollow, void of feeling. "Don't say stuff like that. That's worse than when –" He cut himself off, blushing and turning his face out of Keith's hands, making him momentarily confused, filling him with a sense of déjà vu. He'd experienced this before, not very long ago. A situation just like this.

"Oh, you're afraid," Keith whispered unintentionally, relaxing his grip on Lance, but only a little as he realized what the feeling was. This is what it had been like when Red shut him out, veiled their bond, locking herself tight away from him for their protection. She'd thought she was doing the right thing, but it wasn't like that, and it had almost killed them both. "Like Red." Motives and reasons pulled down between Keith's consciousness and Lance's behavior as he held the separate experiences side-by-side. Was that really it? Was that what was going on? Something else he'd missed entirely. "But you don't have to be."

"Keith," Lance began, but never finished the thought. Or if he did, Keith didn't hear it. His heart was too loud in his ears. There were certain pivotal moments, Keith had noticed, usually when he was about to do something reckless, where his will and his brain clashed. These huge invisible battles took only fractions of seconds; they happened the most when he was on the verge of dashing into danger. Situations where his brain was certain he wouldn't live if he continued and slammed on every neurological brake it could and his intent would have to crash past the failsafes in order to move forward. The exhilarating, semi-paralyzing shift between, "this is crazy," and "I'm going for it," and the tipping point would become increasingly uncomfortable as the adrenaline built for the break-through. Where everything in his body seemed to speed up even as time slowed. Nerves lit up, heart rate increased, all the oxygen in the proximity seemed to just disappear. Keith had felt it in his lion, right before he'd jumped out of her into the canyon after Lance. He felt it again now, which made no sense. He was safe in his room, sitting with Lance on the bed, but still. He felt as though he were on the verge of doing something reckless, dangerous, something that would have inconclusive yet definitive consequences. Seated on his bed, his mind amped up and tried to hold him back as though he were perched to jump off another cliff. But he already knew that he was going to do this anyway.

He gently but firmly took Lance's chin again, turning his face towards him, meeting no resistance from his teammate. Neurons began snapping as restrictions and inhibitions fell away. He was going to do this; his instincts were telling him it was the correct way to proceed, maybe the only way, despite the prevention his sense was pushing on him. Words were too much, and he and Lance weren't in a place where they were all that effective anyway. But this couldn't be misinterpreted or confused. Keith returned his hand to the back of Lance's neck, that fragile place at the base of the skull. He gauged distance, ran calculations on speed and pressure, then Keith closed his eyes, leaped from his mental cliff, and kissed him.

Lance startled at first, something like a whimper coming out of his throat, but it didn't take long before all that tension he'd held on to relaxed. He melted against Keith, making another sound that was not frightened or sad, but still overwhelmed. Keith felt Lance's hands twist in his shirt as he continued to try and convince him without voice that he could be trusted, that he was with him, that he would always be with him if he wanted it that way.

He'd meant to be brief, but apparently kissing was the most successful they'd been at communication to date. It felt right and good, like they were finally aligning themselves, synching. Keith had never felt so relieved or peaceful with another person and was hesitant to stop, but he also wanted to see Lance's eyes again. He slowly pulled back.

"That's what I mean," he whispered, leaving his hand along Lance's cheek, monitoring his emotions in his face. "And that's why."

"Holy crow, Keith," Lance said, trying to catch his breath. "You really _are_ good at everything."

"Can I do it again?" Keith asked, realizing for the first time that he'd never thought about what might happen if Lance didn't want him to. But then again, that was part of jumping from cliffs, not knowing what sort of situation you could be jumping into. That was part of the thrill, and the terror. Funny how often they felt the same.

"Hell yes!" Lance responded, but before they did, Keith looked at him, studied his eyes. He'd seen so many nuances in them since he'd started actually looking, beginning with the unfocused awful in the canyon. Now the pupils were again blown wide, but it was no longer alarming. And there was no pain.

"You're sure it's all right?" Keith asked, just in case, just for one last confirmation. "You're ok?"

"Yeah," Lance responded, and there was truth and relief in his answer. Physically, he's fine. He is trying to get your attention. Such a simple thing. "If this is something you want too."

"Definitely," Keith answered too quickly, feeling almost light headed. "But I don't get it. If this is something you wanted, why didn't you tell me? I thought you hated me."

"I wanted to hate you," Lance admitted, sheepishly. "And I wanted you to think I did."

"Why?" Keith asked, confused. Why push someone away when what you wanted was for them to get closer? He didn't think he'd ever understand this.

"Because I didn't want you to know how I really felt about you," Lance admitted, the breath in his voice alerting Keith to how long he'd held this information in, how these secrets had been eating him alive. No wonder he looked so hurt. "I try not to hand people sticks to beat me with, you know? And I knew you'd never feel the same way about me. I mean, you never looked at me twice when we were at the Garrison. I wasn't cool or talented or anything like that, and –"

"Stop," Keith interrupted, and Lance obediently went silent. "I didn't see _anything_ when I was at the Garrison, ok? It had nothing to do with you not being . . . I don't know why you think like that." Lance was staring at the floor again, quiet. Keith kissed his forehead. "You impress the hell out of me."

"Ha," Lance responded automatically.

"We're going to work on this," Keith promised, wishing that Lance could just take the praise when it was offered. He knew he wanted it. He also knew he didn't feel he really deserved it. The two very different versions of Lance were starting to come together for Keith in a way that made a twisted sense. No brain injury required. "It's time you started believing yourself when you say how amazing you are." Lance flushed, and Keith smiled, liking the effect.

He took the opportunity of the pause to kiss Lance again, this time without the semi-painful burst of adrenaline. It felt better, like a skill that would only improve with practice. Lance made a different sound this time, a little moan of delight, before pulling away.

"Keith, this is really happening, isn't it? I mean, we're both actually here and awake, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Keith answered without much grace. He hadn't been ready to stop. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"I guess I've fantasized about this so much that it's hard to accept that it's not still just my imagination," Lance confessed as Keith tugged him downward, stretching out more comfortably on the bed, shifting little by little to accommodate their height difference, the correct placement of their arms.

"You fantasized about this?" Keith checked, finding that rather amusing. He was literal lightyears away from where he thought his life would be, so it was funny that Lance had given any thought to their current situation. But then again, that's how Lance was. The strategy and planning to Keith's figure it out as he went.

"I did at first," Lance told him, and Keith could hear the beginning of a story. He snuggled in to let Lance talk, just as he'd begged him to when they had come into his room together. Lance cuddled against Keith, head on his chest, telling him how he'd been attracted to him from their first day together at the Garrison. Keith breathed slowly, listening to the lilt of Cuba that still clung to some of Lance's vowels like a sprinkling of sand after a sunny trip to the beach. He found himself drifting on the words like swinging in a hammock, perfectly at ease and relaxed. It was a rather new sensation for him.

Lance talked like someone who had rehearsed in preparation, like someone who had been waiting for an opportunity to release this information. He'd been attracted to Keith, but wasn't sure that Keith could reciprocate his feelings. Then absolutely sure that it would never happen as his clumsy first attempts to begin a friendship with him had been completely ignored. Keith refuted that he'd ignored everyone with equal disgust, that it had been nothing personal, which made Lance take a moment to nuzzle a kiss into his neck before continuing.

It was interesting to Keith, to hear this side of their time at the Garrison together. He'd never known that while he'd been sulking, distracted, and angry most of the time that Lance had been watching him, trying to figure him out. Then after he'd been kicked out of the program, things had gone dark for both of them. Keith's guardian and mentor, Shiro, had gone missing in the Kerboros mission, and Lance was dealing with the aftermath of hearing again and again how he couldn't quite compare to the talents of Cadet Keith Kogane. How he wasn't good enough. How Keith had come to represent in his mind everything he could never have or become. How everything he struggled with in his self-esteem stood in physical manifestation when Keith had suddenly returned the same night as Shiro and how it was so much easier to project all that anger toward him rather than deal with it for himself.

"You were right," Lance admitted. "I was pretty awful to you for no good reason."

"It was a good reason," Keith countered drowsily, eyes closed, arms tight around Lance. "It just had nothing to do with me."

"That doesn't make it any better," Lance told him. "But the worst was after I woke up in the healing pod after I fell into the canyon. You were so different; it was driving me crazy."

"Me too," Keith agreed. Their unsteady, out-of-synch relationship had been equally disturbing to him, and they'd had to handle too many things before they could even try to figure it out.

"It was so hard; you kept looking at me, trying to take care of me, and I figured that I'd rather you ignore me than act like you actually might care. When Blue gave me back my memories and I knew what you'd done . . . I knew that I'd rather you never talk to me again than give me any kind of false hope. I was so convinced that we couldn't do this that I couldn't stand to have you near me if you were going to be nice."

Keith felt his forehead wrinkle. That made absolutely no damn sense.

"You wanted me to be mean to you?" Keith asked, trying to come to terms with what Lance had just said.

"Yeah, I guess so," Lance acknowledged, trying to laugh about it and failing.

"You beat yourself up enough without me doing it," Keith said. "Besides, I like us this way better." He felt Lance smile against his shirt. "Especially the part where neither of us is bleeding."

"Oh man, that was _terrible_!" Lance said, revving up again. "I can think of about thirty other ways you could have woken me up –"

"Wasn't much fun for me either," Keith responded, sluggishly. He was too comfortable to put much thought into what he was saying, but realized instantly that he'd killed a mood. Lance squeezed him almost too hard.

"Well, of course," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to make it sound . . . I was so worried, Keith. And guilty. That only happened to you because of me. And that planet messed you up so much. . .you were coughing so hard . . ."

"Shh," Keith soothed, rubbing Lance's arm. "I'd do it again right now if you were down there and needed me. I had to come get you. We wouldn't be the same without you. I . . I've had a lot of people disappear in my life, and I hate it, so much that I figured it'd be better to just not care and be alone."

"So you were doing the exact same thing I was!" Lance interjected, but allowed Keith to go on.

"But it changed when I bonded with Red," Keith said, remembering how they had first come together. "She made me realize that I could never be alone, showed me how everything is connected, universe to universe." His eyes were still closed; Lance warm against him. "Taught me how quintessence moves and merges. Made me remember that I do care about some things more than protecting myself. So when you fell I didn't even think; I just knew I didn't want anything to break what we'd built here, didn't want to lose you. I know you're homesick, but for me, this is kind of the first time I've felt that I was home. That I have a family . . . and you. . . and we can be together," his words slowed as he said them, pictures moving in his mind of his old house where he'd lived with his father, memories that were so dark they were almost gone, images of foster homes, images of Shiro's apartment, Red's cockpit, fragmented and out of place, the desert, the caves, the canyon . . . so many stars. Like the ones in Lance's eyes.

"Hey, Keith? You falling asleep?" Lance shook him a little, and he startled.

"No," he denied, floating.

"Uh huh. I'm totally convinced Star Boy." Wait – had he been narrating the disjointed images? He thought he'd stopped talking a while ago. Lance sniffed in amusement, kissing him gently on the cheek. "Go to sleep, Keith."

 **Author's Note: Well? How'd I do? Is it ok?**

 **I thought that this would be the end, but I've discovered that there is one thing I'd like to do before we leave this story. There will be one more chapter after this. Thanks to all of you who continue to read this story. It gives me great pleasure to see people clicking on it, and it brings me joy to read comments on how you like it. Stick with me a little longer. We're almost through.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Oh does it feel good to finish this story! It took me in unexpected directions, but that always happens so I don't know why I'm still surprised. Ah Keith – you are so much fun. And Lance, as we all know, is precious. Please enjoy the last chapter.**

Chapter Thirteen

There's no real way to keep internal time on a spaceship. No way to tell without the external clues of regular orbit and gravity how minutes and hours pass. When Keith opened his eyes again, the lights lit the room at the same level as they had when he'd gone to sleep. The only way he knew that time must have passed was because he was suddenly alert and feeling well rested and someone was knocking on the door. Keith looked down the length of the mattress, relieved to find Lance still with him, lifting his head curiously to the sound that had woken them both.

"Keith?" Hunk summoned from the other side. "You awake?"

Keith exchanged a quick look with Lance as the door opened, hoping he was ok with being discovered in bed with him because there wasn't any time to stop that from happening. But Lance just shrugged, grinning.

"Uh, yeah," Keith cleared the sleep from his throat. "Yeah, Hunk; come in."

"Do you have any idea where Lance went?" Hunk asked, looking over his shoulder down the hallway as he entered. "I can't find him anywhere –" He cut off as he turned to see them together, his mouth going too slack for speech. Then he pulled both fists up to his chest, eyes sparkling. "Awww!" He gushed good humoredly, drawing out the word too long to not make it awkward. Keith sat up as Lance butted his face against his chest shyly. "Yes!"

"Hey, Hunk," Lance greeted as the big man came over to tousle both of their heads.

"I told you," Hunk triumphed, pointing finger guns at Lance. "And I should have told you a lot sooner," more finger guns Keith's direction. "And I've got to tell Pidge – she owes me money."

"What'd you do? Bet?" Lance asked, teasing, catching up to Hunk's disjointed nonsense way faster than Keith.

"Um, no . . ." Hunk said unconvincingly. "Doesn't matter! Good for you."

"Thanks," Lance said, blushing, while Keith asked, "Is something going on?"

"Oh, yeah," Hunk changed direction again, remembering why he'd come to get Keith in the first place. "I came to see if you were awake and could come to the bridge."

"Everything ok?" Lance asked, moving to stand up with Keith following.

"It's great. Pidge just did something clever and couldn't wait anymore to tell everyone about it," Hunk explained, making Keith and Lance look at each other sideways.

"We're coming," Lance promised. Hunk nodded, stepping backward before changing his mind and grabbing them both in a tight hug.

"Awww!" He said again, pinching their cheeks for good measure before leading the way to the bridge. Keith took Lance's wrist possessively and followed, his pulse a comforting pace against his fingertips.

"They took bets?" Keith echoed, overwhelmed with so much in such a short time frame. Lance looked slightly ashamed walking by Keith's side. "Everybody knew about you and me except you and me?"

"Apparently I am dramatic," Lance muttered then quickly changed the subject. "So Hunk – what's Pidge done?"

"Nope, not stealing her thunder," Hunk denied, holding up a hand like a physical barrier of information. "I choose life, especially since I made her wait over a varga before I would let anyone wake Keith up. Maybe I should have let you go longer?" He hinted, looking over his shoulder at them.

"I don't think relationships have time limits, Hunk," Keith told him flatly, hearing Lance choke near his ear as he said it. He was surprised how much he liked that. Saying it out loud, starting a relationship. Making Lance blush. Something he'd thought would make him feel trapped and frightened was actually secure and comforting. He'd found some refuge with Shiro who had stepped in to his life as a mentor and something like an older brother, and he would be forever loyal and love him for that, but what he felt for Lance was different. Not necessarily stronger. It was hard to determine. He thought again of Red and his bond with her. There were so many kinds of love surrounding him, and here he'd thought he would live the rest of his life without any of it.

"Hunk, good, there you are," Pidge greeted as they all came trooping into the bridge, looking extremely excited about whatever it was that she'd figured out. "Lance, where were you?"

"Busy," Lance said, twisting his wrist out of Keith's grasp. For a second, Keith worried about that until he caught the look in Lance's eye and understood that what they had to say was just as special as what Pidge was going to tell them and Lance wanted it to have its own moment, which definitely could not happen until Pidge had spoken first. He nodded slightly to acknowledge the plan and watched relief and happiness ripple over Lance's features.

"Ok, but come here and check this out," Pidge gestured hurriedly, missing the entire exchange, coming to Lance's side to physically pull him over to her workstation where everyone else was already standing. "Keith, you too."

"All right, Keith?" Shiro asked from his own position near Pidge's area. He stood at semi-attention, arms folded, expression indicating that he had not missed anything. "You slept a long time."

"For _ever_ ," Pidge agreed in a huff.

"I'm great," Keith said dismissively. "What'd I miss?"

"Ok, ok," Pidge began, unable to wait any longer. "So I took Keith's beetle and did some testing on it." That's when Keith saw the clear receptacle that Pidge used for the insect sitting in front of her. It was in there, completely still for the moment, all its legs extended out from its body. Keith swallowed hard looking at it, completely grossed out. He still couldn't believe that thing had come out of his lungs. Shiro kept his eyes on Keith instead of the beetle; he could feel it without looking though they were several feet apart.

"We thought that it must have animated from the dust of the planet, remember? Using Keith's quintessence to come back to life? It's actually a pretty effective defense mechanism, especially from the Galra. Watch. If you try to extricate the quintessence . ."

"How would you even do that?" Lance broke in, watching intently.

"Let me show you," Pidge said, which is what she normally said when the process would take too long to explain and she was sure that no one in the room would get it anyway. Keith watched, but he still didn't get it. Pidge screwed the container into some kind of port that she'd apparently put together herself. "I made a scale but functional model of the tech the Galra use for mining quintessence from planets based on the machines we saw on the Balmera," she said as she worked, hooking up wires and tweaking knobs, her tone as always too casual for the accomplishment. Like anyone could have done it.

Keith swallowed again as the beetle started to stir inside the glass. He found it hard to look at it. He shifted, leaning a little until his arm was touching Lance's, getting a little relief when Lance leaned back. As Pidge turned a dial, the atmosphere in the container seemed to darken. The bug sped up its movement, as if seeking escape. The image of Mallea's soul in Red's cockpit begging for energy filled Keith's memory.

"Don't," he heard himself say, finding it almost unbearable to watch the demonstration. Everyone turned wondering eyes on him, making him even more uncomfortable. "You're killing it."

"No, it's ok, Keith," Pidge assured him, but he wondered how she could know that. She wasn't under the jar. She wasn't having her quintessence drained from her. The warmth of the bridge was being sucked into that jar; he could feel it. Keith's body remembered his own quintessence being pulled from him, and Shiro's gaze began to be heavy from across the desk. He took what he hoped would be a steadying breath. "Look," Pidge drew his attention, "it has a trick."

Lance's hand found Keith's, squeezing it slightly, as Pidge continued to turn up the dial. The bug shuddered at the bottom of the glass and then suddenly exploded into dust motes. They struck all sides of the receptacle with tiny pinging sounds and then settled into a little pile. . . . all the dust he'd gathered into his lungs while breathing on the planet. There was a rather disturbing amount. Keith pressed the hand that wasn't holding Lance's against his chest, swallowing again.

"Um, Pidge," Lance asked gently, side-eyeing Keith in concern. "How is that ok? You completely fried it."

"No, no, nothing like that," Pidge denied, shaking her head, slightly frustrated that they weren't getting it. "It's like that soldier told us. This prevents quintessence being taken. The beetle is fine – it just kind of . . turned itself inside out? Wrapped all its quintessence inside a protective barrier. Like a spore."

"Looks dead, Pidge," Hunk told her, unconvinced.

"That's the best part," Pidge said, sounding giddy. "It's completely reversible. There is no energy lost here, just contained." That's what Red had said, Keith remembered. Dormant life. "All these particles, every one, still has the blueprint of the beetle in it. It's absolutely perfect. It just needs a catalyst to reverse the process. The whole planet can go back exactly how it was before the Galra ever touched it."

"But the energy required to do that is massive," Allura said, doubtful, frowning next to Shiro. Keith nodded agreement. "More than any of us could produce, or even all of us together."

"But we don't have to," Pidge countered, smiling slyly. "The energy is _already present_." She looked around at her waiting audience, gauging if they were ready for what she was about to tell them. Keith also checked everyone, glad to see they all looked as confused as he felt. He was starting to feel apprehensive. They were still talking about Mallea? Still trying to find a way to save it? When were they going to let it go that it was a lost cause? He wanted to put it out of his mind, never touch on it again.

"Hunk – how does popcorn work?" Pidge asked suddenly. He looked at her like she'd lost her mind before understanding bloomed in his face.

"Oooooh," he drawled, grating on Keith, who had no idea how popcorn worked. "Like that. Because of the liquid . . .right."

Vindicated, Pidge launched into an explanation, her hands flying around her machine as she talked, readjusting the dials, replacing the wires with different apparatus. Keith tried to keep up, but he only really heard some key words. Something about dormant and kinetic energy, and the starch of the popcorn that allowed it to do the actual popping part. More stuff about liquid and how it's present in all things and then another analogy to falling dominos. It made his head feel somewhat cloudy. His throat itched.

"So all we really need," Pidge concluded, flipping a switch. "Is heat."

Immediately light began to brighten the glass jar, and the dust began to vibrate, glowing red, an artificial substitute for whatever had happened inside of Keith's body the first time the beetle had done this. It was making him dizzy. He cleared his throat, unconsciously breathing faster, eyes fixed to the pile of dust. It was almost boiling. The red increased to white. Lance instinctively leaned away in anticipation of what might happen as the pressure rose. Keith fought the urge to put his hand in front of his face.

The dust solidified in front of them, melted together, and then cracked audibly, peeling away as the same damn beetle emerged from it, unchanged, the remaining dust drawn almost magnetically to the shiny exoskeleton, merging flawlessly into it as the reaction finished. Pidge quickly turned down her heat source, waving her hand over the scene as if she'd just done a magic trick. "Isn't it just gorgeous?" She asked.

That was definitely not the word Keith would have picked. Unsettling, sure. Weird. Unnatural. He couldn't find a positive word for this. He was doing his best not to pant. No wonder he'd hurt so much. He was kind of surprised his whole lung hadn't burst open. Or maybe it had – no one had actually told him the damage report. Lance shifted closer to him, sensing his unease.

"Astonishing," Allura christened it, voice hopeful. "So there is something we can do for this planet after all."

"No," Keith groaned, too soft for anyone but Lance to hear him. He felt like his throat was tightening up.

"Keith?" Lance whispered, keeping his hand but also turning to put the other one on Keith's shoulder blade. "You ok?" The others were too caught up in what had happened to notice.

"But how would we get enough heat?" Shiro asked, hand on his chin, pondering the scene.

"We'll need more than heat," Pidge instructed, stroking the side of the jar, apparently cool to the touch. "It's not the same as pyrophytic germination. If it were that easy, we could just set the whole planet on fire."

What a good idea, Keith thought darkly, struggling to stand still and keep quiet.

"We need water too," Pidge continued, "as a buffer, so it'll heat gradually. But we don't need to cover the whole planet. I figure, if we start internally, at the drill site, that will be the best place to set off a sort of chain reaction. See, the first organisms will pop, releasing energy, and then that energy will trigger more reactions and expand as it moves outward, spreading in a ripple effect. We'd only need enough to get the process started and then it should complete on its own."

"It's certainly worth a try," Allura agreed, thoughtfully. Keith's chest felt hot now, despite the chill on his skin, nerves starting to spark, some of his muscles weakening. They were not talking about this, were they? Not really. It sounded like they were planning on returning? Going _underground_? Had they learned nothing?

"Statistically, the success rate is high," Pidge calculated. "We'll just send the Blue Lion first to lay down some water, and then Keith can follow in Red for the heat."

"And then popcorn," Hunk said, nodding.

"Are you crazy?" Keith demanded suddenly, the question exploding out of him as violent as the reaction they'd just watched.

"It really should work," Pidge began, but Keith wasn't interested in hearing the physics again.

"No," he protested, knowing he was coming off manic and knowing he'd be better received if he toned it down. But he was past the place where he could have done that. "I'm not doing it." He turned intensely to Lance. "And you're not either. No way. Pidge – it stole the Green Lion from you, did you forget that? Allura almost died getting her back!" I almost died. Lance . . . Lance was so close.

"Calm down, Keith," Pidge told him. "None of the lions are going to touch down. It should only take a couple of . . ."

"No!" Keith yelled again. His whole body stiffened, and he stepped away from Lance, shaking his head, shaking him off. Overreacting.

"Keith," Lance said his name as soothingly as he'd ever heard it said, but he put his hands up, blocking it out. "Hey." He'd gone along with all of their suggestions against his better judgment and he had lost count of how many times it had almost killed him. He wasn't doing it again, was certainly not risking Lance for it. Lance's eyes held fear and worry now, but he obediently kept his hands off.

"Think of the planet, its people," Allura's voice reminded him of their earlier conversation, filtered into the space where Keith and Lance were staring at each other. But Keith's loyalty was to no planet. He wasn't going to trust her to assess the risk in this; she didn't have enough skin in this game, and Keith suddenly had so much he didn't want to lose. And to send Lance in _first_ – out of the question.

"You can't save them all," he spat at the princess. "Let's just get out of here," he said to no one and everyone, turning away.

"Keith, wait!" He wasn't sure who called him back, but he wasn't listening. He was running. Away from the bridge. Away from that horrible machine Pidge had made. Away from that disgusting beetle that gave him the creeps. Away from Lance.

He sprinted as he used to do when he felt trapped, out of control. No thought of a destination other than far from whatever had made him feel too much. Sometimes, when he was younger, he'd run until his strength gave out on him, never even lifting his head to see where he was going until he'd collapsed, breathless and shaky and not knowing where he was. Most of the time, he stayed where he'd dropped, knowing if he moved, the temporary numbness would stop. Every time someone would find him and bring him back to where they thought he was supposed to be, back where his problems started in an endless painful loop. And he would run again.

But as vast as the Castle of Lions was, there were only so many places he could run. Red's presence drew him, even without him thinking about her or where he was going. He crashed into her without slowing, getting a slight sense of relief from the force of the contact, and then dropped onto the floor, his palm flat against her side. Light bloomed into his brain as his unexpected violence woke her up, and he felt her mentally gasp in surprise even as she wrapped his consciousness in her might, the first warmth he'd felt since he saw the beetle on the bridge.

He didn't speak, grateful that she wouldn't need him to, but his soul begged for her to tip her head, let him in. Let's get out of here. Let's fly! He didn't care where; he just needed the movement, needed her speed because his wasn't enough. But she did not move. Her hesitation in accepting his chaos felt like a betrayal.

Be still, she commanded, steadfast and immovable and way too calm. She didn't understand, had no way to know what conversation he'd just left, what they were planning to make him do. There is no danger here, she maintained. He knew that. He knew that! But there was still danger. Outside. Below the dead surface. Waiting. They wanted Lance to go in there first.

"Keith!"

Keith let his head fall, caught, guilty, overreacting. He'd run as far as he could reach, and as usual, Shiro had come to collect him. Take him back to the beginning. Let's start over. Another chance.

"I'm not doing it, Shiro," he said preemptively, not looking up. He felt Shiro join him almost the same way he felt Red in his heart, a presence that didn't need to be seen.

"No one can force you," Shiro soothed, but only halfway. Keith knew why he was here. He knew all the words that had been said as soon as he'd left the bridge. What happened? Where'd he go? Let me talk to him; I can calm him down. Well, calm and cooperative were not the same thing.

"And no one's sending Lance down there," Keith continued with his non-negotiable terms.

"Ok," Shiro agreed, firmly, "I didn't come here to convince you."

"Then what are you doing here?" Keith asked, not believing, harsher than he meant to sound. It wasn't the first time he'd struck out at Shiro for something he hadn't done.

"Keith," Shiro said, hurt, taking a small step backward. "I'm worried about you. It's been a long time since you've done this. I just want to help. Let me know what's going on with you."

"Nothing's going on. The planet is just bad, Shiro. There's nothing good on it or near it, and every time we get close to it, someone almost dies. I think we should quit while we're ahead. It's too dangerous."

"It's dying," Shiro corrected gently. "It's doing all it can to survive. And this time, for this planet, there's actually a chance for recovery. Look, I get it, no one's suffered more than you have for this mission, but I've seen you push through worse. What's different this time?"

"Not sure if you saw the beetle that came out of my chest –" Keith started sarcastically, but shut his mouth as Shiro crouched down next to him on the floor, putting his hand on his shoulder and finally catching his eyes.

"No, I saw," he said, terribly serious, as if he'd shared the pain. "I saw all of it." And Keith heard what he wasn't saying. He wilted against Shiro's hand.

"I can't watch Lance go underground again," he confessed. "I can't . . . I don't have it in me to go after him." And I don't have it in me to lose him. It had been so hard, so hard the first time. The nerve to jump had been the easy part compared to what had come after. Lance's unfocused eyes, his lapses in memory, the blood on his face, that sound. It had been so awful, and he hadn't even understood what Lance meant to him then. To have to do it over now that he understood how much he cared. What if something happened? What if he failed?

"So it is about Lance," Shiro repeated, as if confirming his own musings. "Keith, you know he's still a Paladin, right? There will be risks."

"But not this one," Keith denied, closed tight. He did not want to hear this. He'd just have to work harder, that's all. Do better. Protect what mattered to him most. But not there. Not again.

"That's Lance's decision. You're going to have to believe in him, trust his ability. He'll feel it if you don't, and you can't live in that place and stay together."

"You don't understand," Keith started, but didn't know how he could explain it in a way where anyone could ever. Shiro tightened his hold on Keith's shoulder, shaking him slightly.

"You don't think so?" He challenged, and there was a hardness in him that surprised Keith. "Keith, I watched you jump, remember? You jumped and then shut off your radio for _over three hours_. Three hours where I couldn't hear you followed by forty where I couldn't get to you. And then you came back broken and sick and angry, but not because I saved you. You saved yourself, and you came back different. You don't think that bothered me? You don't think that terrified me? And then we went back and I watched the ground swallow you whole, and I still don't know what happened to you while you were down there because it's so horrible you can't even talk about it. But I know it did something to you – and again you had to save yourself, and again you came back sick and broken and angry."

"Shiro," Keith interjected, ready for this to end. He hadn't even thought about what his actions could have done to him. Had never suspected it would be like this. He hadn't known how much Shiro worried for him.

"And you wouldn't let me help you," Shiro continued, as if he needed to get it out of his system despite how it was making Keith's insides twist up in shame. "I knew I should have put you in a healing pod that last time; I knew there was something wrong. But I didn't. I let you make your own choices, and then I had to run to Lance's room where you were on the floor, lying in blood. Your lips were blue, Keith; you were barely breathing. That thing tore you apart inside, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

"That wasn't your fault, Shiro," Keith absolved him, not wanting him to carry any of the responsibility for anything that had happened to him.

"And what happened to Lance isn't yours," Shiro said, his words coming down like a physical blow. Keith felt his soul squeezing closed, knowing that Shiro had a point, but still feeling somehow that for him it was different. Red covered him in warm truth, reminding him that she was still there, a participant in the conversation.

Listen to him, she was saying. It only feels different because you think your life has less value than the ones you love. It does not. It is the same.

"I don't like it," Shiro said, unable to hear Red in Keith's mind. "Every time you suit up, every time you get in that lion, it's all I can do to watch you go knowing that you might not come back – that I might not be able to protect you. So don't you dare say I don't understand."

"I'm sorry, Shiro," Keith apologized. Not the way he'd apologized to Allura, that had been empty. This time he meant it. "I didn't know." Shiro was standing now, offering a hand to pull Keith up beside him, into an embrace.

"I didn't want you to know," Shiro confessed, confusing Keith. He pulled back, hands on Keith's shoulders, a mentor's grip. "The things you can do, Keith – they're astonishing. The way you fly and fight. I've never seen such control or precision. You're like a blade, if that makes sense. And if I were to blunt that sharpness that you have, if I were to introduce any doubt – no, can't happen. What you do. There's no room for error. So I put aside my worry, do you understand? I shut it down and just pour belief into you. I don't ever want any weakness of mine to cost you any of your strength. Sometimes, it's the only way I can help you."

Keith looked to the ground, not sure what to say, still ashamed that none of this had ever crossed his mind before.

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel guilty," Shiro told him, sensitive to all of Keith's moods. "I'm telling you because it's something you're going to have to learn to do. You keep saying you failed Lance when you were in the canyon, but you didn't."

"But I –" Keith started to protest, but Shiro didn't let him get very far.

"Didn't you stay with him? Didn't you tell him he could do it? Tell him that he was going to make it? That he was going to get out of there? That you weren't going to leave him because he was part of the team? Weren't those your words?"

"Well, yeah, but . . "

"That's what I'm saying. Look, I'm happy for you. You don't even know how happy I am for you, but you cannot always be there and this is the best advice I can give to you. He needs your faith most. He needs your support. It's the best protection you can offer, trust me."

Keith gathered his strength to make eye contact, still standing small under Shiro's hands. There was so much power and conviction in Shiro's face, and in that instant Keith knew it was true. He realized that he almost never worried about Shiro going into danger. They worked together as a team; they were great partners, and now he understood that part of the reason behind their performance was the missing fear. He trusted Shiro's skill, so there was no need to try and accommodate for the lack of it.

"You're right," he admitted, nodding slowly. Shiro smiled. He was usually right. They both knew it.

"Hey guys? Shiro?" Lance's voice was hesitant at the entrance of the hangar. "Can I come in now?"

Keith raised an eyebrow at Shiro. Lance had been waiting out in the hallway all this time? Red prodded his heart again, opening it a little more; it filled with warmth.

"We're done," Shiro called, giving Lance permission to join them. Keith pressed his hands over his face, internalizing what Shiro had told him as Lance hurried to his side. Keith could see in his movements how difficult it had been for him to stay out there, doing his best to be patient. Another little current of guilt ran along Keith's back for running away from him.

"Keith, you ok?" Lance asked before he'd come to a stop, reaching out to grab his hands. Shiro stepped away to give them room, watching them with a gentle, partially expectant, expression.

"Yeah," Keith answered, his tone way too moody. But it had just now hit him what he'd actually done. "Sorry. I wasn't running away from you . . just . . . I . . ." Words were so complicated sometimes.

"Dude, it's ok. I get it. That planet is like your kryptonite or something."

"Look, Lance," Keith went on, not quite ready to be forgiven. "I'm . . . really not good at everything. I'm going to screw up a lot." Lance bent down to make Keith look at him, smiling, affectionate, and Keith could tell that he could hear what he wasn't saying. Forgive me. Be patient with me. Give me another chance.

"That's ok, Keith," Lance assured him, putting pressure on his hands, firming the connection. "I know what I'm signing up for. Besides," a playful glint sparked in his eye, "you can make it up to me later." Relief burst inside Keith so hard that he felt he had no choice but to dart forward and kiss Lance again, forgetting that Shiro was still standing right next to them. The way Lance responded – he'd forgotten too.

For his part, Shiro stood quietly observing, letting them do as they pleased, but they separated quickly as soon as Pidge's surprised shriek filled the hangar. Keith folded his arms, noticing that Lance was doing the same thing, as the rest of the team came in.

"Were you _all_ waiting in the hall?" Keith hissed under his breath to Lance.

"We were _worried about you_ ," came the answer.

"When did this happen?" Pidge demanded, gesturing at the Red and Blue paladins standing in front of her. Keith couldn't help but smile. This wasn't exactly how he'd meant to let everyone know. "I mean – congratulations and all that, but were you going to tell us?"

"Sure, we were leading up to it," Lance defended them.

"And you owe me money," Hunk told her.

"Um, no," Pidge denied. "Terms were they had to get together without help. There's no way they figured it out by themselves. Deal is void."

"But _you_ were the one dropping hints," Hunk argued. "Which means you cheated, which means you still owe me."

"But more to the problem at hand," Allura cut in, physically stepping forward between them. Keith sighed; he'd been enjoying watching that. "Have we come to a conclusion about Mallea?"

Lance put his hand on Keith's arm in support, and Keith looked at him gratefully. He felt Shiro still standing behind him, remembered all that he'd said. He stood up straight, facing Lance.

"What do you think we should do?" He asked Lance, startling him. He wasn't used to being asked for his opinion, wasn't accustomed to being put on the spot for advice. But things were changing all the time. Lance was a strategist. They should ask him more often, even though he could tell that Lance was not very comfortable with the question.

"Well," Lance began hesitantly, and Keith could tell that he was worried about his real feelings on the matter now that he'd seen how strongly Keith felt about the situation. That wasn't good. He needed to feel safe saying what he thought, even if they disagreed.

"You think we should do it," Keith read the answer in the hesitation, trying his hardest to keep anything that might sound like judgment out of his voice.

"Pidge is never wrong," Lance justified. "And like she says, we wouldn't have to touch down and it would take less than an hour. And I can't help thinking – what if it were Earth? There were people down there – I mean there _are_ people down there. You're right, Keith, we can't save them all. But I think we can save this one. I think it's worth a shot."

"Ok," Keith heard himself agree. He hadn't been the only one to suffer on Mallea, and if Lance could overcome his fear and doubt to take one more risk in saving it, then Keith could do it too. "I'll cover you." Because the Blue Lion had to go first, down into the dark. It's going to be all right. It has to be.

"Thank you," Allura said, breaking into the moment, her tone jubilant. "I think this is the right choice."

Keith still wasn't sure about that. There was still a whole lot that could go wrong with this. But the decision was made, and he was going to follow through. The room began to empty. Coran and Allura returning to the bridge, intent on steering the castle toward the dormant planet. Pidge and Hunk followed them, still bickering about the particulars of their bet. Shiro placed a hand on Keith's and Lance's shoulders.

"You guys got this," he assured them, and Keith could feel it now. Feel the steadiness of Shiro's belief like a force field surrounding them. "Suit up."

"Thanks, Shiro," Keith told him as he passed, receiving a proud nod in return.

"I'll see you down there," Lance said, looking slightly less enthusiastic now that the decision had been reached and they knew for sure that they were doing this. "You gonna be all right?"

"Yeah," Keith said, wanting to believe it. "Are you?"

"For sure! But, if I do get into trouble, my badass boyfriend will totally jump off a cliff to rescue me, right?" Keith knew it was a joke, but he felt all the blood drain out of his face anyway.

"Please, God, don't make me do that," he pleaded. "I will . . .but-"

Lance punched him gently in the arm, and Keith used the contact to grab him, hugging him tight, closing his eyes.

"I would," he said again, knowing it was true. Even though it freaked him out, he knew he would do whatever he had to if Lance needed him. But what Lance needed most, more than knowing Keith would save him, was the belief that it wasn't necessary, because he wouldn't need saving. "But I won't have to."

He let Lance go, physically. Emotionally he still felt that they were together, holding each other tight. He saw a determination in Lance's face, a pride, and his fear lessened.

"Let's do this," he invited, but then had a thought that paused him. "Oh, but first I have to get something from Pidge." He started heading toward the bridge; Lance right behind him, confused.

"What?" He asked.

"That stupid beetle!" Keith said. "After we fix the planet, we are putting it back where it came from. I do not need a souvenir."

"Sounds good," Lance agreed. Keith waited a moment to let Lance catch up to him, taking his wrist possessively, then reconsidered and joined hands instead. It was good. Different but better. Level.

 **Author's Note: Thank you, thank you, and thank you again for letting me share my story with you all. You don't know, but this has been full of firsts for me. The first time I've ever limited myself to ONE character's narrative. (that was hard). The first time I've ever let my boys fall in love with each other. I've written Voltron fics for years, but I think this is my favorite. The one I'm most proud of.**

 **I hope you liked it.**


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